


Spring Came With You

by HeliumStar



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assassins, Attempted Suicide, Deadlock!McCree, Family Drama, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Murder, Pining, Puppy Love, Romance, Young Love, Young McHanzo AU, Young!Hanzo, Young!McCree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-08-09 23:07:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20125351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeliumStar/pseuds/HeliumStar
Summary: There's a lot on Hanzo's mind when spring comes to Hanamura. Memories of better and more cheerful times make his lonely life in the Shimada castle seem bleak and lifeless.He finds a friend in Jesse McCree; one of the outlaws his father invites to stay in Hanamura during the spring. And while Hanzo wants to trust Jesse and share his burdens and secrets with him, he worries that he might have more burdens than even he himself knows.Young!McHanzo AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This was supposed to be a quick one-shot that turned into a multi-chapter thing. Whoops?
> 
> I don't have a lot to say about it. I poured my sap and soul into some of the more fluffier moments. We deserve something sweet and romantic! Enjoy!
> 
> Also, if you think I should tag this with something or the other, please tell me and I'll add it.

Chapter 1

Hanamura is beautiful in the spring. 

When the cherry trees stand in bloom and the sun’s strength returns after the winter, there are few places as beautiful as Hanamura; as the Shimada Castle and its pristine gardens.

Part of Hanzo still feels a childish joy wash over him each spring, when the warmth returns, and he sits and watches the blushing trees sway gently in the breeze. Most of him, however, despise this time of year.

When spring comes, so does Hanzo’s foul mood. 

He sits in his bedroom window, seated comfortably on the cushioned windowsill, as he glares down at the trees in the Shimada Garden. Within him, happiness wrestles with anger. His struggling emotions leave him feeling numb and apathetic. He dissociates to avoid the hassle of raging emotions.

Despite his reluctance to acknowledge his feelings, Hanzo sits and wallows in emotions he doesn’t know how to process. Happiness that sings of the long-awaited spring, the beauty of the cherry trees, and the chirping of sparrows; and anger that roars about bad memories that awaken dread and regret.

Hanzo dreads spring and regrets things that have long since passed.

“ _ Brother… _ ”

A lonely tear trickles down his cheek, followed by many more. Hanzo wipes them away with the back of his hand, which only quickens the pace of which the tears are coming. He squeezes his eyes closed and tries to force the tears and the lump in his throat back down. 

His eyelids burn and his throat aches.

A sharp knock silences the sobs Hanzo didn’t know he was letting out. Someone is at the door.

He clears his throat and wipes away the remaining tears before he calls out with all the confidence and authority he can muster. “ _ Come in _ ,” he says.

The door to his chambers slide open and an elderly woman stands in the doorway, looking at him with apologetic eyes. “ _ Young master Shimada _ ,” she says. “ _ Your father has requested your presence. _ ”

Hanzo nods. “ _ And where is he? _ ”

“ _ He is in his office, master Shimada. He wishes you there with utmost haste. _ ”

“ _ I shall head there immediately, _ ” Hanzo says with a firm nod. “ _ Thank you. _ ”

The elderly woman bows and slides the door closed. Hanzo listens to her walk down the long hall, until her footsteps can no longer be heard. 

He casts a final glance down at the blooming garden before he twists his body and climbs back into his room, stepping down onto the wooden floor with two metallic  _ clanks _ . One for each foot. 

He straightens himself up before the mirror, swiping his hair back behind his ears and wiping the half-dry tears away from his flustered cheeks. It is not pretty, but it will have to do, he thinks to himself as he exits his chamber and makes his way through the castle to his father’s office.

The long corridor to his room is mostly deserted, his being the only room in this wing of the castle that is occupied. Despite the emptiness, the hard wooden floors and the metal of his feet and legs, Hanzo moves unheard through the castle. A useful skill he’s developed during the years he’s been wearing prosthetics.

When he stands outside his father’s office, the door is open and Hanzo steps inside, falling into a courteous bow the moment his father looks his way. “ _ Father _ ,” he says, noticing the man sitting cross-legged opposite of his father at the low table. 

“Hanzo, son.”

Sojiro Shimada is a tall man, authority and confidence making him appear even more so. He sits behind his desk, hands folded on its surface and eyes trained on his eldest son. “Come, meet Mr. Marco Costello.” Sojiro gestures to the other man in the room.

Hanzo bends into another bow, this one turned towards the stranger. “Welcome, Marco Costello.” He does not recognize the stranger. He looks foreign with tanned skin and sun-bleached hair. He wears a red shirt, slacks, and suspenders. In his lap rests a broad-brimmed hat.  _ Cowboy _ , Hanzo thinks to himself.

“This is my son Hanzo,” Sojiro says. “He will partake in some of our meetings.”

“Gotta teach ‘em while they’re young,” Marco says. His accent sounds slurry in Hanzo’s ears, words aren’t spoken fully and letters are twisted by Marco’s heavy dialect.

Sojiro nods, agreeing. “Yes.” He glances between his son and their foreign guest. “Hanzo. We have just finished up here for today. Marco is to return to his lodging in the south building. Escort him there.”

Hanzo nods, once and firmly. “Yes, father.” He turns his gaze to Marco, who doesn’t need to be asked to get up and follow to Hanzo’s relief.

“Once you have seen to our guest, please return,” Sojiro says.

“Yes, father,” Hanzo repeats.

Hanzo leads the strange man out of the office and through the hall. Marco walks behind him, following him silently.  _ Good _ , Hanzo thinks, not having anything to say to the man at present.

They exit out to the garden, following the walkway along the main house. Hanzo says nothing when they round the corner, steps down onto the stone path and leads the guest towards the south wing.

From a distance, he can see more strangers by the south house. They load barrels and crates off a wagon, carrying it into the house. “That’d be my pals, and my stop,” Marco says, finally speaking. “Thanks for showin’ me the way, I reckon I’ll make it the rest of the way by myself.”

Hanzo turns to the man, who’s placed his hat back on his head and has stuffed an unlit cigar between his lips.  _ Definitely a cowboy _ .

“It was my pleasure,” Hanzo replies mechanically. “Should you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask.”

“Will do, son,” Marco says and tips his hat at Hanzo before passing him and barking something at a man that struggles with a supply crate. 

Hanzo watches for a moment before turning away, and returning to his father’s office.

-

His father tells him about the foreigners that are to stay at the Hanamura castle for the time being. The strangers are a gang from the States known as the Deadlock Gang. They trade weapons and workforce and call themselves a business when Hanzo knows they’re really just criminals; thugs that seem to live for making noise and trouble.

His father tells him they’re a reliable source of weapons from the states, and their intel reaches further than just the American south. The resources and the information is valuable, and Sojiro Shimada knows an advantage when he sees one.

Despite his mistrust, and the obnoxious way of the Deadlock Gang, Hanzo bends to his father’s will and attends the meetings between Sojiro and Marco, who seems to be the group’s leader.

Three months is the Deadlock Gang’s planned stay. Other than Marco Costello, there are twelve other men that Hanzo hasn’t bothered to learn the names of. He hasn’t seen them all, but at night he can hear them all the way up in his chambers. They get even louder at night, and Marco only tells them off once or twice before giving in and joining the ruckus.

Hanzo stays out of the way, or in his room when he isn’t asked to be by his father’s side. Just as he had been for a long time, and just like he is going to continue to do until he is told to do otherwise. 

Ever since he was old enough to talk and understand what was being said to him, Hanzo has been groomed to become the leader of the Shimada clan. His father makes sure he knows every nook and cranny of the castle, as well as the ins and outs of its staff and their stories, habits, and quirks.

_ Information is power _ , Sojiro says over and over again. So many times that Hanzo sometimes dreams about it. _ Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. _ A trite saying that has been used too much, Hanzo thinks.

It doesn’t matter. The saying is what his father, and in turn Hanzo, lives by. 

Sometimes Hanzo wishes things were different. Wishes there was more friendly or lively company to be had. Someone to keep him company. Someone who knew and understood his father.

“ _ Mother... Genji… _ ” Hanzo hears himself murmur once, just before he falls asleep. The morning after he’d hoped and prayed that no one had heard him, but he didn't have to worry about that. His room desolate and almost completely isolated from the rest of the castle. He could have shouted at the top of his lungs and it would still not be more than a distant howl in the main castle.

His father provides poor company, and the Shimada clan, in general, is not the kind of company Hanzo wants to keep. The staff is too complacent and does not contribute to many interesting conversations with the exception of the oldest maid in the castle, who has been there for as long as Hanzo can remember. Hanzo, however, doesn’t seek her company.

He is lonely, and he often thinks that he is going to be lonely for some time more.

-

Four days after the Deadlock Gang settles in the southmost building of the Shimada Castle, Hanzo runs into a young man, about his own age, in the garden. He wears the trademark Deadlock west with a skull on its back, and a red scarf tied around his neck.

They bump into each other in the west garden. Or rather, Hanzo catches the stranger kneeling before the shrine assembled in the garden’s corner.

Unreasonable anger shoots up Hanzo’s spine when he sees this and he storms over, shoulders trembling and hands balled up into fists. “What do you think you are doing?” he demands to know.

The stranger looked up over his shoulder, and quickly scramble to his feet. “Master Shimada,” he says, sounding just as surprised and baffled as he looks; eyes wide and mouth hanging open. 

“What were you doing just now?” Hanzo asks.

Looking down at the shrine and then back at Hanzo, the stranger shoots him a sheepish smile. “Forgive me, sir. I was just lookin’ to pay my respects,” he says. His speech is just as slurred as Marco’s. “The garden’s so pretty, and I was told the lady of the house rests here.”

“Enough,” Hanzo hisses. “What gives you the right?”

The stranger holds both hands up in defense and surrender. “Hold on now, I didn’t mean no harm!” he says. “I swear on my own mama, I ain’t here to cause any trouble.”

Despite the anger, Hanzo settles down. “You should not be here,” he says. “Should you not be with the other Americans?” He turns his gaze away from the strange young man and approaches the shrine, picking a few stray leaves from the altar. The action instantly soothes him. 

“I suppose I should, but I got a bit lost wandering the garden. Didn’t realize it was this big. Kind of stumbled back here by coincidence.”

“Uh-huh.” Hanzo brushes some dirt from the stones lining the shrine and makes sure the ornaments stand straight. 

“It’s real pretty,” the stranger mumbles softly. “The gardens, the castle, hell… everything in Hanamura is like taken out of a painting.”

While Hanzo agrees on that, the small talk is not particularly appreciated. He stands, and turns to the stranger again. 

The stranger is tall, lean and his face is dusted with freckles. His hair is a slightly tangled mess that reaches his shoulders and his eyes look kind. 

Hanzo can almost hear the cheerful quip of a sing-song voice in his head;  _ Wa! Handsome! Isn't he, brother? _ Hanzo shakes his head to rid himself of those thoughts. “If you are lost then you should have asked someone to help you find your way back. You are hardly alone in the garden.”

The stranger shrugs. “Being lost here ain't that bad. I could stand it for a while longer.”

Hanzo turns away again. He huffs and lets his attention return to the shrine. He murmurs a prayer under his breath and closes his eyes for a brief moment.  _ Mother, lend me your strength, _ he prays.

When he opens his eyes and turns to look at the stranger, Hanzo is surprised to see that he stands with his head lowered and eyes closed as if he too is silent in prayer. Hanzo stands and watches for a moment. The stranger opens his eyes and Hanzo quickly averts his gaze. 

“If it ain't too much to ask,” the stranger says, voice still low and considering. “Might I trouble you for the directions back?” 

Hanzo stares for a moment, wondering how in the world the young cowboy had ended up where he was, before letting out a silent sigh. “Follow me, if you please,” he mumbles, leading the way through the Shimada Gardens. The stranger follows silently, or as silently as he can in his clumsy cowboy boots.  _ He knows to stay quiet at least _ , Hanzo catches himself thinking as he makes his way along the narrow garden path. 

_ Do you think he's a real cowboy, too? Do you think he has a cowboy hat somewhere? Eh, brother?  _

They walk in silence. Hanzo keeps his head ducked low and the stranger trails behind him without so much as a word. Once they’re back, however, the stranger’s slurry accent brings Hanzo out of his thoughts.

“Thank ya kindly for showing me back, sir. And I'm sorry if I offended you earlier. It wasn't my intention, I swear it.”

“Think nothing of it, American.”

The stranger chuckles slightly. “I do have a name, sir,” he says. 

“So do I,” Hanzo answers dryly which draws another chuckle from the foreigner. 

“Well, you can never be too sure with respect here in Japan. Better to be respectful than not right?” He smiles warmly. “I'll give you my name, as payment for your help.” 

_ I was hardly helpful,  _ Hanzo thinks, _ and your name doesn't interest me.  _

“The name's McCree. Jesse McCree.” 

“Very well, McCree-San,” Hanzo says. “My name is Hanzo Shimada.” 

“I know who you are, sir,” Jesse says with a gentle nog of his head. “And I best return to see the boss. He mentioned something about a trip ‘round Hanamura.”

Hanzo avoids the urge to shrug, instead investing the energy in a disinterested glare. “I am not stopping you,” he points out. 

“Right,” McCree says. “I hope I'll see you again, sir.” He tips an imaginary hat and turns to walk the rest of the path down to the south house. 

Hanzo turns and leaves immediately.

-

Hanzo spends that night on his bedroom windowsill, watching the Deadlock gang lounge around in the garden. Some of them sit in clusters to drink cheap foreign liquor, play cards, break arms. Some sit alone, staring into thin air. 

McCree plays cards with three others, and from the displeased noises of his playing partners, it's quite obvious that the young American is winning. He laughs, the laughter low and rolling from the pit of his belly, when the others toss crumpled bills into his lap. One of the men get up and kick an empty can into the bushes before shoving his hat into McCree's hands and then storming off. 

Hanzo rolls his eyes when McCree bows to his laughing friends and tucks the money into his pockets. He presses the hat down on his head with a flourish. 

For a moment Hanzo catches McCree's gaze. With a smirk and a tip of his now existing hat, McCree winks up at the young man in the window. 

Hanzo decides to go to bed. 

-

The next morning Hanzo is left to spend his time as he wishes. Sojiro Shimada has business to attend to, and Marco has left the castle along with a handful of gang members to venture to the Hanamura market. 

Hanzo spends his free time in the window, with a book the elderly servant lent him. She insists he should read it, and Hanzo promises, after some persuasion, to have a look. While he has an extensive library of books right in his room, few of them are fiction.

It isn’t hard to pick the book and its twisting storyline up. On the contrary, the difficult part is putting it down. Hanzo can’t remember the last time he got so invested in something, and spends the morning with his nose buried in the book.

He sits in his bedroom window. 

His gaze darts across the pages and his fingers nimbly turn the delicate pages. Between his fingers a slim feather sticks up, to use as a bookmark once he does decide to take a break from reading. 

An array of laughter comes from the Shimada garden, and Hanzo looks up from his book to glare down at the noisy gang members. They don’t appear to notice him, and he grunts when he hops down from the windowsill and sticks the feather between the pages.

He needs to find a quiet place. The annoying cackle of the American gang members is not something he has the patience for at the moment.

The garden comes to mind, and more specifically, the patio in the west garden. 

Hanzo makes his way through the castle and exits the main house on the east side, following the path south and rounding main house to get to the west garden. He passes the Deadlock gang’s housing on the way there. Hanzo resists the urge to cover his ears and stomp when he walks by.

Once he’s out of eye and earshot he resumes his reading, wandering slowly along the garden paths. He knows them like the back of his hand, and lets his attention linger on the book instead.

He soon finds himself near the patio in the northwest corner of the castle. It’s quiet there and Hanzo decides that the shade of the small building and the comfort of the wooden deck is preferable to walking around aimlessly.

However, once he gets close enough, he spots a half-familiar figure stretched out on the sunny side of the deck. 

McCree.

At first, Hanzo wants to leave. He doesn’t want company. But the patio looks inviting and McCree has already spotted him. “Howdy,” he coos when Hanzo approaches. “Good afternoon.”

“McCree-san,” Hanzo says. “I did not know there would be anyone here.”

McCree sits up and smiles. “Sorry. I seem to keep getting in your way,” he says. “I just wanted a quiet spot for myself,” he confesses. “And I saw you up in your room, so I figured the garden would be a safe bet.”

Hanzo narrows his eyes at the American. “You saw me in my room, huh?” he asks, then another question pops up. “Are you purposely trying to avoid me?”

“Not avoiding” McCree mumbles. “Just saw you perched up in your window, sittin’ pretty like a dove and thought you looked like you wanted peace and quiet.”

Hanzo huffs. “I am no dove,” he mutters. 

“Well, you are pretty like one,” McCree says with a shrug. “Anyway. I’ll get out of your hair if you want me to.” He rises and turns to leave the patio.

Hanzo suddenly feels guilty. The garden is not just for him to enjoy, and from the looks of it, McCree was there seeking peace and quiet as well.

“ _ Wait _ ,” Hanzo says. McCree seems as surprised as Hanzo by that. Hanzo’s cheeks turn pink when McCree looks at him, so he quickly clears his throat. “You do not have to leave. So long as you don’t mind staying silent.”

McCree pouts his lips for a moment before sitting back down and making himself comfortable on the edge of the risen patio again. He tips his hat down over his eyes to shield them from the sun, and seems to be resuming whatever daydreaming-activity he was doing before Hanzo arrived.

They sit in silence, the only noise being the gentle breeze, the birds and the occasional flick of paper when Hanzo turns the pages in his book. Neither disturbs the other and they coexist comfortably on the small patio.

The sun wanders across the sky, and soon one of the castle’s servants approach Hanzo to offer him afternoon tea. She speaks quietly and curtly to him and offers to bring the tea out to the patio.

“ _ That would be appreciated, thank you _ ,” Hanzo says with a nod.

The woman flashes him a polite smile. “ _ And would… uh... the American? _ ”

It occurs to Hanzo that McCree hasn’t spoken a word since he laid down, and that it’s possible that he is sleeping. “ _ He will have some too _ ,” Hanzo decides. 

The servant scurries away and Hanzo turns his attention to the resting cowboy. It appears that McCree actually is asleep, with his hands folded behind his head and his hat pulled down to cover his face. His chest falls and rises slowly and evenly.

Hanzo finds himself staring, mesmerized by the tranquility oozing from McCree.

His train of thought is interrupted when the servant returns with a tray housing a pot of tea and two small cups, along with a small tray of sweets. Hanzo thanks her, and places the tray between himself and McCree as she leaves.

“McCree-san,” he says, sharp enough to wake the cowboy but softly enough to do so gently.

The cowboy yawns and stretches before pushing his hat back up and peering up at Hanzo. “Ya?”

Hanzo rolls his eyes as he pours tea into the cups, one after another. “You have been sleeping for some time now,” he says. “Do you not sleep at night? Or do you spend it playing cards?”

McCree smiles sheepishly as he sits up and rubs his eyes. The action is childish but endearing. “Naw, this place just really makes me relax,” he says. “Haven’t been anywhere this quiet before. Makes me real sleepy.” He turns and notices the tray between them. “Did I miss something?”

“Do you drink tea?” Hanzo asks, and nearly draws back in horror over how high pitched his voice sounded. He mentally scolds himself for sounding so silly and clears his throat. “I was uncertain, but I thought you might feel left out if I had tea alone.” When he looks up, he expects McCree to sneer at him but McCree looks like a child on Christmas morning.

“Really? You got some for me?” McCree asks eagerly. He quickly calms himself. “I mean-... well, I ain’t never had tea like this before,” he confesses. “It’s an honor to have tea with the master of the house and all.”

Hanzo hesitates, unsure of what to reply. Instead, he offers one of the cups to the cowboy and then focuses on his own. He can’t help but cast glances to the young man beside him, who’s gingerly sipping from the cup, seemingly relishing the beverage.

McCree draws his legs up and sits with them crossed. “This is great,” he says. “The garden, the sunny weather, and the tea. Do you do this every day?” he asks, turning to Hanzo with a beaming smile.

“Not every day,” Hanzo says. “You caught me on a good day.”

“Lucky me.” McCree smiles. 

“Do you drink tea in America? Like this?”

McCree shakes his head. “Not really, no. Not like this anyway. But what do I know? I live with those Deadlock hooligans. They ain’t exactly the tea-drinking type.” He shrugs. 

A shout coming from the front garden makes them both turn and look. “McCree!” A gravelly voice shouts. “Get your ass back here! We’ve got shit to do. I know you’re hiding!”

Hanzo can’t roll his eyes hard enough at that, and even McCree lets out a long and exasperated sigh. “See what I mean?” he asks. He finishes whatever tea’s left in his cup and places the porcelain cup back onto the tray. “Thank you for the tea,” he says. “It was nice.” He gets up and jumps down from the patio onto the gravel path.

“Do they always make so much noise?” Hanzo asks.

McCree shrugs and dusts his pants off. “They’re worse back home,” he says.

Hanzo shudders. He can’t imagine the Americans being any louder.

“Hey,” McCree mutters suddenly, just as he’s about to leave. “This really was nice,” he says, nodding at the patio. “If it’s all the same to you, I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

“Sleeping?” Hanzo asks.

McCree laughs softly. “I could go with a few more hours of sleep at night,” he admits before settling with a gentle smile. “But I meant this,” he says and nods at the tray. “Having tea, or you know… just sitting around together.”

Hanzo hesitates. “I… would like that.” He finally nods. “I would like to do this again.”

“Great,” McCree says softly. “Until next time, then.” He grabs his hat and puts it back on his head. “And hey,” he says. “Don’t be a stranger if you see me around. I’m always up for a chat.”

“I am not very chatty,” Hanzo says, to which McCree’s smile widen. 

“That’s okay. Whatever works for you, yeah?”

He leaves but Hanzo is feeling a little less lonely than usual.

-

Despite McCree’s tendency to talk too much, Hanzo enjoys his company. Hanzo makes it a habit to take walks in the garden, specifically around the patio since it seems like McCree has taken a liking to the place and lingers there when he has nothing else to do.

They have tea together some afternoons. Sometimes Hanzo humors McCree by participating in the small talk, which consists mostly of questions being asked and answered. What foods do you like? What’s your favorite color? How do you say this in Japanese? Why are there spurs on your boots?

Some questions can be answered and some neither have an answer for. When answers aren’t showing themselves, they sit in silence to contemplate until McCree has something else to ask or talk about. 

McCree invites Hanzo to come and spend time with the Deadlock gang on several occasions. Hanzo declines, saying how he doesn’t want to get any closer to the noise and ruckus, but secretly the invite flatters him. He’s never been invited to anything with such genuine intention. He truly does, however, not want to spend time with Deadlock. McCree’s company alone is enough.

“You ever leave the Shimada castle?” McCree asks one rainy afternoon when he and Hanzo sit in the patio, shielded from the drizzle of rain.

Hanzo shakes his head. “Very seldom,” he says. “Unless my father sends me out on business, I stay here.”

“What? All the time?” McCree frowns. “You’re telling me you ain’t never spend time outside these walls… you know… for fun?” He stabs a thumb in the direction of the nearest wall. 

“Not for a long time.”

For a moment McCree looks thoughtful, watching Hanzo with a pout. He scratches his chin, nails dragging over the slight scruff. Hanzo sips on his tea, waiting for the American to continue, as he no doubt will do. “Would you like to?” McCree asks suddenly.

“Excuse me?”

McCree looks sly like a fox, grinning at Hanzo. “You heard me,” he says “Would you like to go outside the walls?”

“Now?”

“Yeah,” McCree says. “Or well… whenever you want.”

Hanzo thinks for a while. “Is that an offer?” he asks after a few moments of pondering.

“It can be whatever you want it to be,” McCree says. “What do ya say?”

Again, Hanzo is silent as he considers the offer. While he knows he shouldn’t go, a sudden urge to rebel against his elders spring up in him. An urge to be anywhere but within the walls of the Shimada castle.

“Tomorrow,” he says. “Meet me by the northwest corner of the grounds.” 

He does not wait for McCree to answer, and puts his teacup down and rises in one swift movement. Hanzo leaves McCree grinning on the patio and hurries through the gentle rain, back to his room.

-

Part of Hanzo expects McCree to stand him up. He half expects the American to simply not show up and leave him lurking near the wall to be caught by the staff or one of his father’s guards.

But McCree is there and he’s waiting for him when he arrives. Flashing him a smile and a goofy hand gesture as a greeting. “Howdy,” he coos.

“You showed up,” Hanzo can’t help but point out.

McCree’s smile widens and he puts a hand over his heart. “You wound me, sweetheart. I would never leave you hanging.” They both duck into the bushes when footsteps approach, and they stay hidden until the stray servant is out of sight. “So how do we get out of here?”

“There is a smaller gate here,” Hanzo explains. “Used by the staff. It should be locked.”

“Do you have the key?”

Hanzo produces a key from his pocket. “I do now.”

They find and unlock the gate, casting wary glances in all direction as the gate opens with a silent creak. “Come on,” McCree says when Hanzo hesitates. “Are you with me or not?” He holds a hand out, waiting for a reply and Hanzo’s hand.

Hanzo hesitates, but only for a short moment, before he puts his hand in the McCree's and nods. “I am with you.”

It feels as if his stomach is doing flips when they slip out through the side-gate and it closes behind them. McCree ushers him forward and Hanzo can hear how the young cowboy giggles when they slink into the shadows of an adjacent building.

“You think they saw us?” McCree asks, glancing out from behind the corner they hide behind.

“I do not think so,” Hanzo replies. He feels giddy all of a sudden, excited to be doing something he shouldn’t. “Come, I think I know a way through here.”

McCree follows close behind him as he treads carefully along the wall and through a couple of alleyways. After a few minutes, they end up on what seems to be the main road. “I thought you said you hadn’t been out that much,” McCree points out with a grin.

Hanzo shrugs. “That does not mean I have not ever been outside,” he says. “I know my way around the streets.”

“So where do you want to go?”

“I… do not know,” Hanzo says. “I have not been out here in a long time. I wonder if Hatori is still running his shop,” he wonders aloud. “My brother and I used to visit him weekly.”

McCree lights up into a smile. “Let’s go and find out, then. Shall we?” His enthusiasm is contagious and Hanzo can’t hold back a smile of his own as he leads McCree down half-familiar streets and remembers how it used to look.

To his surprise, and delight, the small hole-in-the-wall bakery is still there, and although it looks a bit more run-down, the smell is the same. Hanzo hesitates quite some distance away from the shop.

“What’s the matter?” McCree asks him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Is that not it?”

“No, it is…” Hanzo mumbles. “But I have not been there in years.”

“So? All the more reason to go and say hi.”

Hanzo continues to hesitate, until McCree gently pulls him across the street and up to the open window. There’s an old man standing in the shop, that shoots them a friendly smile. “ _ Welcome _ ,” he says. “ _ What can I get you? _ ”

Hanzo recognizes the man as Hatori, the same owner, and baker from all those years ago, but Hatori doesn’t seem to recognize him. In a way, that is both comforting and disheartening. He ignores both those feelings.

“ _ Daifuku _ ,” he mumbles, not even glancing at the menu. “ _ Please _ .”

“ _ Of course _ .”

Hatori turns away for a moment, busying himself with the sweets as Hanzo turns to McCree with a suddenly uncertain frown. “You okay?” McCree asks softly. Hanzo only nods in response.

They move away from the window and Hanzo’s voice is so soft that McCree has to lean closer to hear him. “It has been so long,” Hanzo mumbles. “He does not recognize me.”

“Does that bother ya?”

“No,” Hanzo says with a gentle shake of his head. “It is for the best.”

Hatori calls out for him and hands him an array of sweets on a flimsy paper plate. The sight and smell make Hanzo so nostalgic that he can’t hold back his smile. “ _ Thank you _ ,” he tells the shopkeeper, paying him for the sweets and rejoining McCree that’s found a bench to sit on.

Hanzo sits down next to McCree and places the plate between them. He gestures for McCree to help himself before he picks one up for himself. The taste is just as he remembered, and bring back a wave of happy childhood memories. Smiles and laughter he thought he’d forgotten. He takes a few moments to sit and remember as he eats, but when he turns to his unusually silent company, he can’t help but gawk at the sight.

The look on the young cowboy’s face is priceless. His eyes are wide with glee and he’s devouring the  _ daifuku  _ as if he’s starving and it’s the only food he’s had in weeks.

While Hanzo would normally chow down the sweets without any hesitation, being notorious for having a sweet tooth, it's ten times as satisfying to watch McCree's face twist with wonder with each bite. 

Hanzo can't help but push more of the sweets over to McCree and watch him reach for another, and murmur soft profanities under his breath because, as McCree himself puts it; how in God's good name can beans be so sweet? 

When McCree notices Hanzo's fascinated stare he averts his gaze, embarrassment and a very evident blush creeping onto his face. “What?” 

“I take it that you like it,” Hanzo says softly, trying but failing to look away. 

“Yeah, I do. Sweets here ain't like sweets at home. At home they're more… bland.” He furrows his brows. “Or well… Not bland. Just… Not as… I can't really put a word on it.”

Hanzo shrugs. “Perhaps you do not have to,” he says. “Silence can sometimes speak what words cannot.” 

At first, it looks as if McCree is about to speak again, but instead he just smiles and turns his gaze towards the busy street. They eat in silence, and neither speak until the daifuku is eaten and all that’s left is the empty plate.

“Thank you,” Hanzo says, unexpectedly. “For taking me here.”

“I didn’t take you anywhere. You took me here,” McCree points out. “I just pulled you out the gate.”

“Which was what I needed.” Hanzo Folds his hands in his lap. “Hanamura is beautiful. Especially this time of year.”

“It sure is.” There is an almost dreamy sound in McCree’s voice. “Ain’t nothing in the world as pretty.” Hanzo turns towards him to agree, but the cowboy quickly looks away. “Anything else you want to do while we’re out here?”

Hanzo thinks for a moment, then nods. "I want to go and see the Koi ponds by the river." 

McCree turns and smiles at him again. "Then let's go." 

-

It’s late when they make it back to the northwest gate. The sun has just wandered out of sight and the darkness makes it easier to sneak around the garden without being detected. They walk close together, whispering about things they heard and saw outside the castle with their heads leaned in towards one another.

They part ways before they get discovered and Hanzo watches McCree head over to where the rest of the Deadlock gang sits around a firepit.

When Hanzo goes to bed that night, his cheeks hurt from all the smiling.

-

Despite his and McCree’s outing, Hanzo soon falls back into his old thoughts and habits. The ones that return each year during spring. An anniversary is coming up. One Hanzo would rather forget all about.

He declines McCree’s company several times, in favor of sitting in his room. He sits near the window, where the walls don’t feel as constricting and where he can see the sunny sky. Regrets and sorrow creep towards him from the dark corners of the room, digging their vicious fangs into him and burrowing their sharp claws in his chest.

Six long years have passed but the wounds feel fresh, and the pain is just as real as it was then.

Hanzo only leaves his room a few times a day to see to the tasks his father gives him, and attend the discussions between his father and Marco. Hanzo i silent during most of that time and when Marco has left his father says little but gives him an understanding look.

Hanzo is too ashamed to return those looks. His father could not possibly have accepted the event of grief and Hanzo’s ultimate failure. There was no doubt in Hanzo’s mind that his father silently resented him, and that the only reason he was still there was because they were related by blood.

He was a Shimada, and he belonged in the Shimada castle. Hanzo was strong and able, and his father knew that, which was probably why he was still being kept around. But a strong body is nothing without a strong mind.

-

It is by accident that Hanzo runs into McCree.

They bump into each other when Hanzo is retreating to his room after dinner, and McCree lights up into a smile when they meet. “Well howdy,” he says. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I have been… busy,” Hanzo lies. He hasn’t been doing much but hide in his room, wallowing in grief. 

“I see.” The look on McCree’s face says that he knows that Hanzo is lying. “Well,” the cowboy continues. “I spotted you earlier, in your room, through the window- uh… not that I’ve been spyin’ on ya or anything like that.” McCree nervously averts his gaze. “Nah, I mean I happened to look up and spot you and you looked… a bit upset. Figured I’d ask if everything was alright.”

Hanzo looks at McCree with empty eyes. “Alright?” he echoes. “I…”

When his answer doesn’t come McCree speaks again. “Thought you might be lonely. I don’t really see anyone else up where you are.”

“I am the only resident in the south wing,” Hanzo explains numbly, uncertain if he wants to answer the questions or not. He averts his gaze and shifts uncomfortably. 

“You live up there all by yourself?” McCree sounds surprised. “Your father doesn’t sleep?”

Hanzo gulps but answers the question, staying as composed as he can. “He resides in a different part of the castle.”

“I didn’t realize…”

Something in Hanzo feels as if should explain, as if he should tell McCree that it hasn’t always been like it is. That once upon a time, the Shimada castle sparked with life and joy. “It was not always like this,” he murmurs. “The whole family once lived together in the south wing. My father, mother, my brother and I.” A wave of pain washes over Hanzo. 

The silence seems to stretch the seconds out. “I-...” McCree hesitates. There is a slight pause, then he speaks again. But this time his voice is soft and silent. “Your brother. You don’t speak of him much… but it’s obvious that you were very close.”

Tension starts building in Hanzo the moment McCree mentions his brother.  _ Genji _ . Hanzo says nothing. He lowers his head, making an effort to avoid the cowboy’s concerned gaze.

“I saw a picture somewhere. Can’t remember where,” McCree continues. “A picture of a young boy, and you.”

“Genji,” Hanzo interrupts McCree before he can continue. “My brother’s name was Genji.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

The sadness in Hanzo is suddenly overpowered by an unexpected rage. He clenches his hands into fists. He hates those words. Hates them so much he feels as if his chest is about to implode on itself. He squeezes his eyes shut and turns his head away from McCree, hoping to be able to force his emotions back.

“Hey,” McCree coos, shuffling closer and placing a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder. “It’s okay.”

Hanzo jerks back, brushing McCree’s hand away. “ _ It is not okay _ ,” he says. “How could it be?”

McCree holds his hands up in surrender. “Easy,” he says. “Are you okay?”

“_I am not okay_,” Hanzo says, shaking his head. “_How could I be?_ _How can I possibly be okay after what I did? I failed him._” He’s shouting now, not caring whether or not someone hears but like always it seems like no one’s there to listen or care enough to listen, except for McCree, who’s looking increasingly concerned. The look in his eyes makes Hanzo take a step back. 

Pity.

“Slow down,” McCree says. “I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

Of course not, Hanzo thinks. Who, with a healthy and sound mind would ever understand? And even if McCree could understand, Hanzo has spoken too much. Despite the want to stay and tell McCree everything he knows that he won’t be able to get a word out. He turns to leave but McCree grabs hold of his wrist. “Hold on. Don’t storm off on me.”

“ _ Let go _ ,” Hanzo hisses, jerking away and glaring at the cowboy. “You would never understand.”

McCree stares at him, eyes filled with hurt as he lets go and allows Hanzo to run away into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the wonderful comments and messages. You are the best! <3
> 
> Please, enjoy the next chapter. It's time for angst!! And fluff :)

Chapter 2

Genji was, despite his young age, an avid collector of blades and other sharp objects. Hanzo remembers his brother keeping a collection of paper-thin  _ shurikens  _ on the wall, displayed in an artful formation. He remembers his brother explaining to him the differences between various kinds of blades. What the different lengths and names and shapes and materials meant and how they came to be.

Unlike his brother, Hanzo had little interest in blades and weapons. He was proficient in several martial arts and his greatest skill was with a bow, which Genji showed no promise with. But whenever his younger brother did speak about his interest, Hanzo had always listened.

Hanzo sighs, looking at the blade placed on the floorboards before him. It’s well maintained, and even its scabbard is polished.

“ _ Brother… _ ” Hanzo murmurs. “ _ I’m sorry. Will you ever forgive me? _ ”

He closes his eyes for a short moment and when he opens them, he turns his head and looks out through the window. The moon shines through it, and he sits for what feels like hours before he gets up and promptly closes the shutters. 

The room falls into darkness, the only light is from a candle sitting on his bedside table. it flickers weakly in the room, and just barely provides him with enough light to see.

Hanzo returns to his spot in the center of the room, kneeling back down and getting comfortable before the blade. 

“ _ Would you welcome me with open arms? Or would you cast me away? _ ” Hanzo whispers. “ _ Would mother be able to look me in the eyes? Would my ancestors frown upon me? _ ” He shakes his head slowly as he speaks. 

Tears prick under his eyelids, and this time he lets them fall however they wish. He almost welcomes them. 

He takes a few deep breaths before he picks the blade up and pulls it from its sheath. The blade glistens in the dim light, casting a faint reflection of the candlelight on the wall. Hanzo stares at the blade for some time, watching his reflection on the shiny metal.

He sees only guilt and remorse in his own eyes.

“ _ I’m sorry _ ,” he says. His voice cracks and he grips the sword tighter. So tight that his knuckles turn white. 

Without another word, he raises the sword, pointing its tip towards his stomach. He takes several deep breaths, preparing for a final thrust when the door to his room suddenly slides open.

Hanzo realizes that he’s gotten caught, and scrambles to set his plan in motion, bringing the sword towards himself, but before he has time to inflict any damage, the intruder crashes into him, wrestling the blade out of his hands.

“What in God’s good name do you think you are doing?!” McCree yells. The blade falls to the floor with a loud clatter and Hanzo finds himself pinned down against the floorboards. “Have you gone and lost your mind?”

Hanzo trashes around, struggling against McCree’s sturdy grip to try and get free, but his arms suddenly feel weak and he can’t see through the tears in his eyes. “ _ Let me go _ !” he shouts. “I demand that you let me go!”

The young American yanks Hanzo from the floor with so much force that Hanzo’s arms ache. In a surprisingly swift motion, McCree pulls Hanzo from the floor and into his lap, trapping him in a tight embrace that prevents him from doing much but kick and shout, which Hanzo does.

“Let me go! You cannot do this to me! You can’t stop me! Let me go!” Hanzo cries. His kicks with his legs, lashing out the best he can while being restrained. His prosthetics scrape against the floor, creating frantic patterns in the wooden boards. “Let me go!”

McCree hush at him but doesn’t loosen his grip. “It’s okay,” he murmurs into the back of Hanzo’s head. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Hanzo hates it. He hates how the American speaks to him as if he’s a frightened animal, and he hates how the soothing noises McCree makes, and his arms around him actually calm him down. His shouting fades to silent sobs, and his legs still beneath him.

Several minutes pass and McCree doesn’t loosen his grip until Hanzo's breaths are even and his sobs have silenced down. He slowly lets Hanzo go and then quickly kicks the blade into a far corner of the room, out of reach from them both.

Hanzo pushes himself out of McCree’s embrace and scrambles to create some distance between them. He glares at McCree, face filled with shame. “You should not have interfered,” he says. His gaze moves from the young cowboy to the scratched up floorboards. “Why did you stop me?”

“Because you would have regretted it,” McCree says. “Bleeding out ain’t a nice way to go. Takes a long time. Time to think and regret.”

Hanzo frowns. “All I do is regret. More cannot possibly harm.”

A skeptical look crosses McCree’s face. “Believe me. There’s a limit you do not want to reach.”

“I am quite certain that I reached that limit some time ago,” Hanzo mutters. 

“And I am quite certain that you still have some kick in you.”

Hanzo looks up at McCree and only then notices that the cowboy sports a bloody nose. Hanzo’s frown grows as he realizes that he must have been the one to hurt McCree with his thrashing. He slowly draws closer, timidly reaching out to make sure that McCree is alright. “Forgive me,” he says. “I did not mean to hurt you.”

“Better me than you,” McCree replies with a weak smile, swiping the back of his hand across his face to wipe the blood away. “I’m sure half of Japan would throw a fit if you got hurt. My folks stopped caring about a bit of blood a long time ago… well, unless it comes in pints that is.”

Unsettled by how open McCree is, Hanzo rises from the floor. McCree gets up too and throws worried glances towards the blade on the other side of the room. “Do not worry,” Hanzo says. “I will not try that again.”

“Good,” McCree says. “But in case you do. I’ll be here to stop you.”

A small but sad smile ghosts over Hanzo’s lips. “Thank you, McCree-san.”

“Jesse’s fine,” McCree says. “For you at least.”

Hanzo’s tries to force his smile to stay but it has to give way for the frown and the new wave of tears. “Thank you,” he says, falling forward and wrapping his arms around the cowboy. “Thank you, Jesse.”

Jesse’s arms close around him. “No worries, Hanzo.”

-

Several days pass and neither Hanzo or Jesse mentions what happened. Jesse returns to his companions and blames the bloody nose on a fight with a grumpy servant that he doesn’t want to snitch on.

Hanzo is grateful. He isn’t sure what would, or will, happen if anyone finds out that the heir of the Shimada clan had tried to commit suicide. Nothing good, he’s certain.

He runs into Jesse more frequently after that. He’s not sure if Jesse’s always wandered around like that, or if it’s because of what happened. Hanzo would like to think that Jesse isn’t keeping an eye on him, even though it’s somewhat comforting to see him more often. 

“Howdy,” Jesse says with a tip of his stupid hat every time Hanzo passes him.

“Good day,” Hanzo replies more often than not.

It becomes a habit to retreat to the garden patio whenever he can, because he knows that eventually Jesse always shows up. 

They meet up once a day. Often during the afternoon, but as time goes on their meetings slowly become later and later, until their meetings are nightly rather than daily. They don’t do much during their meetings, and it’s often very brief. They speak for a while, about small things, and sometimes about themselves, and some night they simply sit and watch the sky and the garden.

On rare occasions, Hanzo invites Jesse to his room. Those times are often when the weather is bad, or he’s not feeling well enough to leave his room to go outside. 

On such a night, Jesse and Hanzo sit in Hanzo’s room, with their back leaned against the wall as they look out the window. They don’t sit in the window for risk of being caught, but the faint moonlight and the slight breeze feels good.

Hanzo has not spoken many words since Jesse arrived, and sits and listens to a story Jesse tells him. A story about a woman back in the States that Jesse seems particularly fond of. “She’s the best shot in the world I bet,” Jesse murmurs. “Can probably hit a fly from a hundred yards away.”

“Impressive,” Hanzo mumbles, and he means it even if he doesn’t sound very excited.

Jesse nods and smiles to himself. “Yeah,” he says. “She’s kind of like family…” he silences down for a bit and turns his head to look at Hanzo. “What was your family like? Before?” he asks.

Hanzo gulps. “Not like this,” he says. “We were very happy.” He struggles a bit to try and put words on things. “My mother and father loved each other very much, and my brother and I were nearly inseparable. The whole family was very close, and we rarely kept secrets from one another.” He sits and thinks for a bit, thinking back and trying to recall happy things. “My mother used to sing a lot. When she was young, she wanted to be a singer.

“My brother was livelier than me. The moments when he sat still were very rare. More often than not he was running to or from something. I lost count on how many times he was scolded for running with something sharp in his hands.”

Hanzo smiles fondly, and Jesse nods. Jesse doesn’t say anything. He seems to know when Hanzo needs time to formulate his thoughts and words. 

“He collected weapons as a hobby,” Hanzo continues. “Not to use, really… I think he was just fascinated by them. He would show them off in his room, on the walls or in display cases. I never cared much for such things. I prefer books…”

“I’ve noticed,” Jesse says. “You’ve got a collection.”

Hanzo blushes. “Well… not a very impressive collection.”

Jesse smiles at him. “Well. I’ve only ever read one book in my life, and it was falling apart when I got it.” He looks over at the shelves in Hanzo’s room. “I might have borrowed one while we sit in the patio, but I can’t read Japanese.”

“I could read one for you,” Hanzo offers before he has time to really think. “If you would like to, of course,” he adds, quickly averting his gaze.

There’s a slight pause between them. “I’d like that very much,” Jesse says. 

Hanzo smiles to himself. “Next time,” he says. “I will bring one.” He glances over at Jesse just in time to catch him yawn. Hanzo frowns. “You must be tired,” he says. “I have kept you here for too long.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jesse says. “I’ve stayed because I wanted to. I like spending time with you.”

“Oh.” Hanzo blinks. “I enjoy spending time with you as well.” 

“Then don’t worry so much about me.” Hanzo’s cheeks burn red for a moment while Jesse stretches. “Well… it is getting late, and I’m supposed to be up in a few hours,” he says. “I should be heading back, shouldn’t I?”

“Yes, that might be for the best,” Hanzo says. 

They get up and Hanzo walks Jesse over to the door. “Thanks for inviting me up. If you ever want to hang out, just ask, okay?” Jesse says. His smile is warm and kind, and it makes Hanzo's heart beat harder and faster.

“Okay,” Hanzo says with a nod. “I will ask you again soon.”

Jesse nods and tips his hat towards Hanzo. “Until then,” he murmurs before turning and sneaking down the hall and turns a corner, disappearing out of sight. 

Hanzo waits until he can’t hear Jesse’s footsteps any longer before he quickly closes the door and runs over to the window, leaning so far out that he can see the door Jesse will eventually exit the castle from. 

He feels a bit silly. He knows it’ll take Jesse at least a few minutes to reach the door, but he waits as if Jesse’s moments away from stepping out.

When Jesse actually does step out into the night, he immediately looks up towards the window, and Hanzo waves awkwardly. Jesse waves back, walking along the path back to his own residence. 

Hanzo watches Jesse until he disappears into the south building.

-

The next time they meet is a warm spring day and they spend it hidden away in the patio, with Jesse laying with his head leaned against his hands as Hanzo reads to him.

Hanzo speaks softly, his pace even despite having to translate on the spot. From time to time he glances over at Jesse, to make sure that he is still listening and hasn’t fallen asleep, which he tends to do. He notices, however, that Jesse seems to struggle with getting comfortable. 

“Here,” he says, shifting slightly. “Lean on me.”

Jesse looks at him, surprised. He looks at where Hanzo’s hands gesture before he hesitantly scoots closer and leans his head against Hanzo’s lap. He says nothing, and Hanzo continues reading. 

When Hanzo finishes a chapter, Jesse speaks. “This is nice,” he says.

“Yes,” Hanzo agrees. “Are you comfortable?”

“I feel outright spoiled,” Jesse says with a goofy smile. “Never thought I’d ever end up somewhere this nice.”

Hanzo smiles, then continues reading. Jesse lets out a pleased sigh and closes his eyes to listen, his silly smile melting down into a soft curl of his lips. 

-

It’s raining the day Sojiro calls Hanzo to his office. Not a light spring rain. Not the kind that leaves a pleasant smell and a cool breeze. The rain is heavy and whips down on anyone unfortunate enough to be caught outside.

Hanzo scurries to his father’s office, glaring out on the rain and thinks to himself that he won’t be able to go outside and meet with Jesse unless he wants to get drenched by the freezing rain.

When he steps into the room, his father is standing up, waiting for him. “ _ Hanzo _ ,” he says. “ _ There you are. _ ”

“ _ You called? _ ” Hanzo says, bowing slightly to greet his father. 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Sojiro says with a nod. “ _ Come, and sit. We are waiting for Mr. Costello, _ ” Sojiro says. “ _ He should be here any moment now. _ ”

Hanzo nods and crosses the room, sitting by the unusually large table that has been brought out. “ _ What are we discussing today? _ ” he asks once he’s seated. 

Sojiro paces back and forth in the room for a moment. “ _ I have gotten news from one of our men in Kyoto. He has tracked down and found one of our intercepted shipments. One we thought missing, _ ” he explains. “ _ Mr. Costello has offered to assist us with retrieving it. _ ”

“ _ That is generous of him, _ ” Hanzo says. He doesn’t really think so. He knows that Marco is there because he is technically hired by his father, but he knows his father would disapprove if he was any kind of disrespectful. “ _ And are you going to take his offer? _ ”

“ _ Yes _ .” Sojiro turns to his son. “ _ I have been thinking about this all morning. I did, at first, consider you going with him and his men, but I have decided that I will go instead. I am leaving you here to man the castle. _ ”

Hanzo feels as if his blood freezes in his vein and all calm he has slides off of him. “ _ Me? _ ” he stutters. “ _ You’re leaving me to-... _ ” he can’t finish the sentence, and his heart clenches uncomfortably in his chest.

Sojiro steps over to him and places a hand on his shoulder. “ _ I know what you are thinking, Hanzo. But you must be strong. I am leaving the castle to you. _ ”

“ _ But- _ ”

Hanzo doesn’t have time to finish his sentence. The door to the office opens and Marco steps into the room followed by two members of the Deadlock Gang. One of them is Jesse. He locks eyes with Hanzo for a brief second, but Hanzo quickly looks away, attempting to collect himself and regain whatever composure he can.

“Mr. Costello,” Sojiro greets the man. “Please, have a seat.”

Marco nods and walks through the room, seating himself by the table. Jesse and the other gang member sit down on either side of him. “I take it that you’ve made up your mind, then?” Marco says. 

“I have.” Sojiro sits down next to his son. 

Hanzo keeps his eyes on Marco, only casting brief glances towards Jesse. The young cowboy seems less inclined to hide his lingering glances, but no one appears to notice. 

Jesse does, however, notice how stiff Hanzo sits, and how he flinches at the least bit of motion or word spoken too loud. He knows something is wrong, but they are both locked into a situation when they can’t do anything but sit and endure.

Sojiro and Marco speak rather quickly, making plans and talking about various routes and methods they should or shouldn't make use of. 

“Very well, Master Shimada,” Marco says after what feels like hours of planning. “I will not bring all of my men, some of them will remain stationed here to help hold down the fort, if necessary,” he says. “I will bring these two, my right and left hand.” He gestures to the strange gang member, and then Jesse respectively. 

Hanzo gulps and lets his gaze rest on Jesse as Marco continues to talk. Jesse looks right back at him, attempting to hold back a concerned frown. For a fraction of a second, Hanzo can’t hold back his own frown and has to turn his head not to let it show. When he looks back up, Marco is getting up, along with Jesse and the other man. 

Sojiro rises, and so does Hanzo. “Make your preparations,” Sojiro says. “We leave at dawn.”

The Americans leave and Hanzo is left alone with his father once more. hanzo knows better than to question orders, especially those given by his father, so he stands and awaits further instructions.

“ _ Hanzo _ ,” Sojiro says. “ _ While I am gone, keep an eye on the remaining foreigners. Marco barely kept them under wraps, I do not want them to rise up because their leader is not here. _ ”

“ _ Yes, father, _ ” Hanzo says. “ _ I will make sure they cause no trouble, here or in Hanamura. _ ”

“ _ Very good. _ ” Sojiro looks pleased. “ _ Then you are dismissed. _ ”

Without sparing his father another glance, Hanzo quickly leaves the room and turns left the moment he exits the room. He keeps his head low and his gaze glued to the floor as he walks and sees the person before him too late.

He crashes, head first, into Jesse, that doesn’t seem all that shaken by the crash. “Hey,” Jesse cries softly. “Be careful.” He puts his hands on Hanzo’s arms and tries to catch Hanzo’s wandering gaze. “Are you okay?”

Hanzo looks up at him, then glances around them to make sure no one’s around. He can still hear his father’s pacing in the office and decides that they have to speak elsewhere. “Come with me,” he whispers, grabbing Jesse’s hand and quickly pulling him along. He doesn’t stop until they’re back in the south wing, outside his room.

Jesse hasn’t spoken a word, and haven’t protested to being dragged through the Shimada castle, but once Hanzo slows down and lets him go, Jesse speaks. “Are you alright?” he asks softly. “You didn’t look too good down there.”

“It is… nothing,” Hanzo mumbles. 

Jesse smiles softly at him, reaching forward and hooking a finger under Hanzo’s chin. “A frown like that ain’t ‘nothing’,” he says. “What’s the matter?”

For a moment, Hanzo thinks about telling Jesse everything, but after just a brief second he decides that he shouldn’t, can’t tell Jesse. Surely, the cowboy would turn on his heels and run away. Or worse, give Hanzo another one of those deep looks of pity.

Hanzo would rather die than have Jesse pity him.

“I am concerned about being left here in Hanamura,” Hanzo explains, breaking down his story into small truths. “I do not like being here alone. I would prefer it if my father stayed and sent me in his place.”

“So we could do the mission together?” Jesse asks.

That opens up a few new thoughts in Hanzo’s head. He wouldn’t mind being out on a so-called ‘mission’ with Jesse. In fact, he thinks he’s rather like doing something productive together.

“That is not entirely it,” Hanzo mumbles. “I just…” he gives up with a sigh. “It is nothing I want to discuss at the moment. I would rather have all this over with as fast as possible. As soon as my father, and you, return I can rest easy again.”

“Well…” Jesse stands and thinks for a moment. “I’ll do my best then. To try and make this mission as smooth as it can be. So that we get back sooner.”

Hanzo can’t help but smile at that. “I would appreciate that.”

They stand there together for some time, not speaking or looking at one another. “It’s a shame the weather’s so bad,” Jesse murmurs. “I was hoping… since I’m leaving so soon, to spend some time with you… well outside.”

“It truly is a shame,” Hanzo agrees. “We shall do so when you return, then.”

Jesse smiles. “I’d love to do that,” he says. “Oh.” He reaches behind his back. “Before I forget.” He produces a flower from behind his back, one that had been gingerly tucked in one of his belt loops. While it’s a bit worse for wear, it’s still pretty and vibrant. “Here.” Jesse offers Hanzo the flowers.

Hanzo takes it, eyes wide and eyebrows arch high on his forehead. “For me?” he asks.

“I saw it this morning just outside the gates,” Jesse explains. “It was gettin’ all beat up by the rain so I thought I’d pick it before it got destroyed.” He smiles and scratches the back of his neck. “They’re supposed to be a bit lucky too. Or at least that’s what I’ve heard.”

Hanzo studies the flower. It’s a peony, and it’s petals are a light but intense pink. He can’t help but blush. “Peonies are indeed lucky,” he says. “Or so they say.”

“So we’ll hope for good luck, then,” Jesse says. “You keep that around until I get back, okay?”

“I will treasure it,” Hanzo promises.

Jesse’s cheeks turn red, an even more intense color than the flower in Hanzo’s hand. “Ah- Well, uh… You don’t have to if you…” he stutters and fumbles with his words. “I thought it’d be nice for you to uh… have something around that’d remind you of… uh… well… uh… me.”

Hanzo looks at the flower, and he imagines that it won’t be difficult at all to be reminded of Jesse when he looks at it. He looks back up at Jesse and nods. “I will think of you every time I look at it.”

It looks as if Jesse’s about to melt before him. His cheeks have such a deep red color and even the tip of his nose is tinted pink. He squirms before Hanzo, as if he doesn’t know what to do with his body. “Thank you,” he manages to get out. “I should… go and get ready for the trip, I guess.”

“You should.”

Jesse clears his throat and finally gathers enough courage to look Hanzo in the eyes again. “Will you… uh... wait for me when I get back?” he asks. 

Hanzo smiles at him. “Of course.”

“That’s… perfect,” Jesse breathes out. His expression is suddenly unreadable. There are too many emotions running amok on his handsome features. “Perfect,” he repeats, almost breathless. Then he quickly clears his throat again. “I really should go. See you later, Hanzo.”

“See you later, Jesse,” Hanzo replies.

-

The flower sits in a delicate crystal vase on Hanzo’s windowsill, and it’s more comforting than Hanzo first realizes. After he sees his father off, having already missed Marco and Jesse leaving, he retreats to his room to try and occupy himself for a few hours to calm down.

He tries to read or meditate to relax but he’s so tense his hands tremble and his chest aches. 

Perhaps he should try walking around the garden? Or maybe he should go and make sure that the Deadlock Gang aren’t getting into trouble?

No, Hanzo decides. He doesn’t want to go outside, and the foreigners can’t possibly have had enough time to get rowdy.

But still, Hanzo can’t relax. His turns his head, eyes catching a glint from the windowsill, coming from the crystal vase. He watches the flower for some time, thinking to himself. “What would Jesse do?”

Jesse would no doubt be more calm and collected than Hanzo. He would at least not be as stressed. Hanzo thinks for a moment. If Jesse had a castle to himself, and all the time in the world to do as he pleased, what would he do?

Sleeping is the first thing that comes to mind, but Hanzo doesn’t feel like sleeping. Nor does he feel like laying down. 

If Jesse was there with him, what would they do? Is Hanzo’s next question.

He spends a few minutes considering what he’d actually want to do with Jesse. He’d like to finish the book they’re reading. He’d like to have tea together and sneak out for more sweets. He’d like to sit and watch the stars together, staying somewhere hidden and private where they can remain undisturbed for as long as they like.

Once his mind has wandered to Jesse, it can’t seem to leave. It’s easy to think about the American’s silly quirks, odd stories and endearing expressions. Hanzo finds himself lost in the thoughts of Jesse for some time.

He even finds himself wandering the castle in a dreamlike state, mindlessly walking through the hallways and peering into various rooms as if to make sure they’re all alright.

It during the night when things get truly difficult.

When the sun has set and the nightly noises begin, Hanzo stays awake, sitting with his bow on one side and Genji’s sword on the other. He sits and watches the door, listening intently for any noise that could be anything but what he’s used to.

He listens for footsteps, whispers or the lack of thereof. 

Hanzo keeps thinking, despite hours of telling himself it’s all nonsense, that an intruder might storm through the door at any moment. He’s scared of falling asleep. Frightened to be woken up by a dark shadow above him, and a sharp blade at his throat.

It isn’t until it’s morning, and the castle become a bit more lively that he relaxes enough to rest. He goes down to have breakfast, trying his best to appear put together before the servants before he returns to his room for a few hours of rest.

It feels like torture. Every minute awake feels like an hour and a day feels several years long. Hanzo thinks he might be at his breaking point when he spots the flower in the vase on his windowsill. 

“ _ Think about me. _ ” He can almost hear Jesse’s voice in his head and it soothes his harrowed soul. He imagines Jesse in the place of the vase, sitting there in the window with his feet dangling down over the floor and his goofy smile etched on his face. It’s enough of a comfort to lull Hanzo into a dreamless sleep.

_ You really have it good, brother. Geez… _

-

The day Sojiro Shimada return to Hanamura, Hanzo feels as if thousand tons are lifted from his shoulders. 

His father immediately asks to see him in his office, and Hanzo all but rushes there. “ _ Father _ ,” he greets Sojiro with a deep bow. “ _ You have returned. _ ”

“ _ Hanzo. I trust everything has been well here. _ ” Sojiro looks a bit tired, but also pleased. As if he’s glad to be home. 

“ _ Yes _ .” Hanzo straightens up. “ _ Things have been calm. _ ”

“ _ Very good. _ ” Sojiro looks around the office, then turns to his son. “ _ And you? _ ” he asks. There is some hesitation in his voice, and Hanzo doesn’t know what to do with it. “ _ Are you well, Hanzo? _ ”

Hanzo nods slowly. “ _ I am feeling much better now that you are back. _ ” He stands there for a moment, fidgeting, which is very unlike him. “ _ When are the others to return? _ ” Hanzo can’t help but ask. “ _ Mr. Costello and his men? _ ”

Sojiro looks surprised by the question, but he does answer. “ _ Mr. Costello and his associates will return before nightfall. They are escorting the shipment to its destination, to ensure its arrival, _ ” he explains. “ _ Why? _ ”

“ _ No reason, _ ” Hanzo mumbles, averting his eyes and hoping that his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “ _ I just wondered why you returned without them. _ ”

“ _ They’re all alright if that’s what you’re wondering, _ ” Sojiro says. His tone of voice isn’t what it usually is and Hanzo can’t help but look. He hasn’t heard his father speak so casually in years. “ _ Is that what you’re wondering? _ ” Sojiro asks.

Hanzo gulps. “ _ I… I suppose so, yes, _ ” he says. “ _ But don’t worry. It was just a childish worry. _ ”

Despite Hanzo’s attempt to brush the whole thing off, his father looks concerned for a moment. “ _ They should be here before night, _ ” he repeats. “ _ Why don’t I fill you in on what happened until then? _ ”

“ _ I would like that, _ ” Hanzo says with a nod. 

For the first time in a very long time, Sojiro smiles a genuine smile towards his son. “ _ Then come, and sit. I’ll call for tea. _ ”

-

Hanzo can’t remember the last time he and his father sat and spoke like they do that day. Once his Sojiro has relayed the events and results of the Kyoto mission, their conversation turns more casual. They speak briefly about what had happened in Hanamura while Sojiro was away, which was little.

It’s almost like, Hanzo thinks to himself as if Sojiro Shimada has been worried about his son. 

Sojiro asks how Hanzo has been, and what he’s been up to when they don’t see each other. Hanzo is hesitant to answer those questions, in fear of saying something his father will not approve of.

“ _ I spend most of my time reading or training, _ ” Hanzo says. It isn’t a lie, he does spend a considerable amount of time doing those things, just not as much lately. He doesn’t mention Jesse, nor any of the trips outside of the walls.

“ _ I’m glad that you keep yourself fit. Body and mind, _ ” Sojiro says. 

One of the guards steps into the room and bows. “ _ Master Shimada. Mr. Costello and his men have returned. _ ”

Hanzo’s head swivels to look at the guard and then his father. He waits, almost eagerly for his father to say or do something. “ _ Good _ ,” Sojiro says. “ _ I will be there shortly. _ ”

“ _ Yes, Master Shimada. _ ”

Sojiro rises and turns to Hanzo. “ _ We will have to continue another time, Hanzo. I trust that you can settle down, now that everyone has returned safe and sound? _ ” He asks, sounding amused.

“ _ Yes, father, _ ” Hanzo says. “ _ Please, do not mind me. _ ”

They part ways outside Sojiro’s office. Hanzo stands and waits until his father is out of sight before he turns around and takes off into a sprint in the opposite direction. If he goes around, Hanzo thinks, he might be able to watch the team return from the garden.

He runs as silent as he can with two metal legs, through the castle and exits on the East side, turning right and running around the north corner to try and catch a glimpse of the returning men.

However, it seems as if someone else has had the same idea, because the moment Hanzo rounds the corner, he runs into someone, coming from the opposite direction.

“Jesse!” Hanzo cries, skidding to a stop not to crash into him. “You are back.” Instead, he grabs Jesse by the arms, holding him still just to make sure that he is really there, and that he is not running anywhere else.

Jesse’s face light up into the brightest smile Hanzo’s ever seen. “Hey,” is all he has to say at first, acting as if he isn’t out of breath from the full sprint he slowed from. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you,” Hanzo says. 

“You came to see me,” Jesse echoes, sounding awestruck. “Lil ol’ me.”

“Yes, you,” Hanzo says. “Is that so hard to believe?”

Jesse doesn’t appear to have heard him. “I missed you,” he says. “During the entire trip.”

His words completely derail any thoughts and questions Hanzo had for the man. “You… oh…”

“I really did,” Jesse continues. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

A rough voice is heard from a distance. Calling Jesse’s name followed by a bunch of colorful profanities. Jesse chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m supposed to be over there,” he says, jutting his thumb over his shoulder. “But I just… I wanted to see you first.”

Hanzo shakes his head. “You are insane.”

“Perhaps,” Jesse agrees with a nod and the cartoonish smile that Hanzo has grown so fond of. “Just... “ Jesse sighs and glances over his shoulder before he turns back to Hanzo. “Are you busy tonight?” he asks.

“What?”

“Are you busy tonight?” Jesse repeats. “I want to show you something.”

Hanzo gives him a quizzical look, blinking several times as he takes the question in. Marco’s voice is heard shouting again, louder this time. “Tonight?” Hanzo asks. “What do you want to show me?” he asks. 

Jesse smiles at him. “You’ll just have to wait and see, but it is outside the walls so we’d have to sneak out. Are you okay with that?”

“Of course,” Hanzo says. He realizes that he’d go anywhere if Jesse asked him to. “When do you want to leave?”

“Meet me when it’s dark, by the northwest gate, like last time.” He says.

“MCCREE!” Marco shouts so loud that Hanzo is certain that Marco must be turning blue wherever he is.

Jesse laughs. “I have to go!” he says, parting from Hanzo. “Just… meet me tonight,” he says, taking several steps backward, smile still wide on his face. “And trust me,” he adds with a wink before he finally turns and runs back the way he came.

-

They do meet at the gate that night. Both of them are early, so they hide out in the garden as they wait for the sun to set, and when they sneak out through the gate they do so hand in hand, just like the last time.

This time, however, it’s Jesse that pulls Hanzo along through narrow streets and odd paths. Hanzo doesn’t question him, and he’s not entirely certain where the young cowboy is leading him. He hasn’t been this far away from the castle before, and while it’s slightly frightening, it’s also incredibly liberating.

“It’s just up this hill,” Jesse says. “A little bit longer.” 

Hanzo follows and when they reach the top of the hill, Hanzo understands why Jesse has brought him there.

From where they stand, he can see a large part of the city and the many lights that flicker and dance in the night. The hill itself is covered with cherry trees and the ground is covered with soft grass and flowers. 

“How did you find this spot?” Hanzo asks, turning to Jesse.

Jesse has taken his hat off and holds it awkwardly in his hands. “Oh well… you know,” he mumbles. “When I’m not working and I’m not with you… I like to take walks,” he explains. “Found this place by accident I suppose. Thought of you while I was up here. Only feels right to bring you here.”

Hanzo smiles at him. “Thank you,” he says, and then turns back to look down towards the city. He can see Shimada Castle from there. It stands high and mighty, and while it is impressive it’s also a bit intimidating.

Jesse walks up to stand next to him. “Like a painting,” he says.

“Yes,” Hanzo agrees. They’re both silent for a while, lost in their own thoughts until Hanzo decides to speak what’s been on his mind for some time. “I wanted to thank you, Jesse… for what you did that night. For what you said. If not for you… I would have made a grave mistake.”

“Aw,” Jesse mumbles, scratching the back of his neck. “I just did what I felt was right.”

“It was more than right. You saved my life. And not only that, you kept coming back. To comfort me and keep me company.” Hanzo turns to face Jesse with a gentle smile. “Your company alone has done so much for me.”

Jesse’s cheek turns pink, and he squirms a bit where he stands. “Lord,” he mutters. “You sure know how to make a cowboy blush. And here I was… about to try and seduce you. Guess you beat me to it.”

“Seduce me?” Hanzo asks. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. 

“Well yeah,” Jesse says. “I’d like to try, at least.”

Hanzo stares, then chuckles softly, covering his mouth not to let the chuckles escalate into loud laughter. “No one has ever expressed any desire to woo me before,” he confesses. “I must admit… it feels a bit strange. But it not unwelcome. It… makes me happy.” 

“I want to make you happy,” Jesse says dreamily. His gaze is on Hanzo and his expression is positively lovestruck. His mouth hangs slightly open and his eyes radiate affection.

Hanzo feels very powerful like this. Like he has the world at his fingertips. He leans closer, slowly shaking his head. “Kiss me,” he says.

Jesse doesn't have to be asked twice. Doesn't hesitate or leave Hanzo waiting for long. He leans forward, pressing his lips again Hanzo's.

Hanzo has never been kissed before but kissing Jesse feels just as good as he'd imagined. Jesse's lips are warm but firm against his. Hanzo can't help himself, can't hold back the urge to bring Jesse closer. To be closer to Jesse. He wraps his arms around Jesse's neck and presses himself closer. 

Jesse withdraws from the kiss for a breath of air and the look on his face is brighter than all the stars in the sky together. “Lord almighty,” he sighs. “You must be an angel.”

At that Hanzo can’t help but roll his eyes. “You are ridiculous.”

“I ain’t!” Jesse argues. “You’re just so darn pretty. I could look at you all day.”

“I could kiss you all day,” Hanzo coos, feeling bold.

At this point, even Jesse’s ears are flushed red. He averts his eyes and wipes a hand over his mouth. “How’s a man supposed to say no to that?” he asks. 

They share another kiss, this one less cautious than the first. Under the stars and the cherry trees, away from walls and castles and bad memories, they both lose themselves in each other if only for a short while.

-

He holds a finger over his lips, urging Jesse to stay silent as they move through the garden towards the castle. Jesse’s fingers are tangled with Hanzo’s as Hanzo leads him through a backdoor and up a slim flight of stairs.

They don’t say anything and stop several times not to be detected by the castle’s staff or guards. 

When they’re finally in Hanzo’s room, they close the door, look at one another and finally dares to utter childish chuckles. “I feel like a proper spy,” Jesse says. “Sneaking through a castle.”

“I’ve been doing a whole lot of sneaking lately it seems,” Hanzo says. “It’s good to know that I can still walk around unheard.”

Jesse glances down at Hanzo’s metal legs. Hanzo can’t recall Jesse ever doing that before. Or maybe he’s just never caught Jesse doing it. Hanzo too looks down, suddenly a bit self-conscious. 

“Do they hurt?” Jesse asks.

“Sometimes,” Hanzo mumbles. “Not real pain though. Only memories.”

Jesse frowns for a moment. “How long has it been?”

“Six years, almost to the date,” Hanzo mumbles. “Six years and five days.” 

At first, Jesse doesn’t answer, and Hanzo knows it cannot be easy to say anything after learning such a thing. But his heart swells in his chest for Jesse, and he takes his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I would like to show you something too,” he says. 

Jesse nods and follows Hanzo as they exit the room again, only to enter the room across the hall. 

The room is near identical to Hanzo’s, at least in layout. Visually, the room is almost the polar opposite. While Hanzo’s room is painted a gentle blue this room’s walls are bright green. The shelves in this room aren’t filled with books, but with various kinds of weapons and blades, displayed in cases, intricate sheats or hung up on the wall. The place could be mistaken for an armory if it weren’t for the bed and vanity.

“This was Genji’s room,” Hanzo mumbles. He looks around and realizes that he hasn’t been in his brother’s room since that one night. A wave of horrible memories rush towards him, but he tries to remain strong. “My brother used to live here,” he says.

Jesse looks around. Curious, but respectful as he inspects the shelves and the decorations in the room. When he turns back to Hanzo his heart sinks. Hanzo’s gaze is locked on a spot on the floor. Floorboards so stained that even after years the wood is still dark.

Slowly, Jesse returns to Hanzo’s side, taking a hold of his hand and giving him an encouraging squeeze.

“I want to tell you what happened,” Hanzo says.

“You don’t have to. It can’t be easy,” Jesse murmurs.

Hanzo shakes his head. “That is why I have to. I want you to know. I trust you, Jesse.”

Jesse’s face turns grim, but he nods, bracing himself to hear the story while keeping his hand on Hanzo’s.

"Years ago Japan was at war. Not a war like most people know it, but underground involving clans and rich families. Among them; the Shimada clan." Hanzo stares out through the window, having a hard time focusing on anything but the cloudy sky. "Fights ensued often, and assassinations were not uncommon. Naturally, my father had a target on his back and a price on his head. And those who went after my father wanted to make sure that none could follow him.

My mother, my younger brother and I were in as much danger as father was. Hence, we lived isolated like this," Hanzo says and gestures vaguely around himself. Jesse looks around, thinking about the gardens and the high wall that surrounds the castle as Hanzo continues. "Six years ago, my father left Hanamura for a brief period to tend to some business elsewhere. As the oldest son, I was head of the house while he was gone."

Jesse seems to understand where the story is going and Hanzo can see how the saddened expression on his face twists his features. Despite the emotional look, Jesse says nothing and doesn't interrupt, and for that Hanzo is grateful. He isn't sure that he'd be able to go on if Jesse interrupted him. 

"The night before my father's planned return, intruders entered the castle and made their way to the family's residential wing. I awoke to my mother screaming and begging the assassins to spare me and my brother, and Genji crying in the next room. I armed myself to protect my family but I was too late and too weak."

There is a long pause that Hanzo uses to collect his thoughts and chose his next words. Pain flares up in his chest like fire licking his insides, and tears burn the inside of his eyelids as he opens his mouth to speak again. But nothing but a whimper comes out. 

Jesse closes the small space between them and wordlessly wraps his arms around him, holding him still, but not like before. This time Hanzo wasn't being restrained. He was being held.

Hanzo doesn’t realize just how touch-starved and lonely he’s been until Jesse's arms are around him like they are. The tears break free and roll down his cheeks, dripping off the edge of his chin down into Jesse's shoulder. 

"I couldn't protect my mother. I fought for my brother but I was too weak. They defeated me and killed him right before my eyes. Had I been stronger… Genji might have lived… I...” he shakes his head. “I killed him." 

"No, Hanzo…" 

Hanzo looks down, glaring at the shiny metal of his prosthetics. "Seeing those men cut my brother down, I went into a rage and through me, the dragons of the Shimada clan devoured the assassins. But it was already too late. Most of my family and myself was already gone." 

Jesse pulls back enough to look Hanzo in the eyes. "But you're still here." 

" _ Yes _ . I am still here," Hanzo says with a nod. 

Silence falls over them again. "That's it then?" Jesse murmurs after several long minutes of utter silence. "That's what you regret? What you blame yourself for? Your family being killed?" 

"If I was stronger-" 

"Good God. Hanzo, you were a kid." 

"They trusted me to protect them." 

"Then that's on them. A child shouldn't have that responsibility. You did everything you could. You're still here." Jesse grips the young Shimada's shoulders and squeezes them. "If you ended your life, your fighting and effort would be in vain. Your mother wanted you to live." 

"Jesse…" 

"I want you to live, Hanzo."

More tears cloud Hanzo's bison and his breaths turn into hulking sobs. Through his blurry vision, he can make out that Jesse is crying softly. “So this is why…” Jesse says. “This is why you didn’t want your father to leave. Why you didn’t want to be left alone here.”

Hanzo nods weakly. “I was afraid. Afraid that the same thing would happen again.”

“Oh, Hanzo,” Jesse sighs, pulling Hanzo closer again. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Please don’t,” Hanzo whimpers. “Please don’t go.” He sobs as Jesse presses several kisses to his forehead.

Jesse coos at him, soothing and loving. “I’m not going anywhere.”


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

When Hanzo wakes the next morning, he wonders if it would be possible to stay in bed forever. He knows for a fact that he could spend the rest of eternity laying there as long as Jesse’s arms are around him.

Hanzo thinks he might have found true peace. He finds that he can’t possibly be worried or stressed about anything at that moment. The castle could be on flames and Hanzo would have been okay.

Jesse wakes slowly, eyes slowly peering open and focusing on Hanzo. Instantly, Jesse’s face breaks into a smile. “Mornin’,” he says.

“Good morning,” Hanzo coos back at him. 

Jesse looks around in the room. The sun has just risen, and it’s rays shine through the open window. He looks back at Hanzo. “Have you been awake for long?” he asks.

“Perhaps,” Hanzo says, propping himself up on his elbow. “You are a heavy sleeper.”

“It’s just been some time since I slept anywhere this nice,” Jesse mumbles, blushing. “And you should've woken me up. I could have kept you company.” He yawns and rubs the sleep out of his eyes. 

“I like just laying next to you,” Hanzo says. “I am very happy that you are comfortable.”

“Darlin’,” Jesse chuckles. “You have to raise that bar. I’m afraid if I anything really cheesy you’ll explode or somethin’.”

Hanzo chuckles. “You do not need to worry about that,” he assures Jesse. “I-”

He is interrupted by footsteps. Hanzo tenses up at once because the only reason anyone is ever in this part of the castle is to visit him. He flies out of bed, tossing the covers over Jesse, that chuckles softly, not realizing what his partner is doing.

“Stay,” Hanzo whispers. “Be silent and do not move.”

Jesse obliges, growing silent and still under the many blankets and pillows that Hanzo piles on top of him. 

There’s a knock on the door, and Hanzo walks over. “ _ Yes? _ ” he calls through the door. 

“ _ Young Master Shimada? I’m sorry about the early hour, but your father has requested to see you. He insisted that you come right away, _ ” a voice calls through the door.

Hanzo bites back a curse. “ _ Tell him that I will be there shortly, _ ” Hanzo replies.

“ _ I’m afraid I’ll have to accompany you. It is your father’s orders. _ ”

“ _ Then you will have to wait for me to get dressed, _ ” Hanzo says.

“ _ Of course, _ ” the voice replies easily. “ _ I shall wait here. _ ”

Hanzo slowly backs away from the door and tiptoes back to the bed, pulling the blankets away enough to look Jesse in the eyes. “Stay here,” he whispers as silently as he can. “Stay until we have left, then make your way downstairs the same way we came last night.”

Jesse nods. “Don’t worry about me.”

Without wasting any time, Hanzo changes robes and brushes his hair before he returns to the door. “ _ I am coming out, _ ” he announces before sliding the door open. He doesn’t open it all the way, and slips out, hoping the man outside doesn’t get a good look inside. 

The man is one of his father’s new advisors. An old man with hair that has started to grow grey. Hanzo knows better, however, than to underestimate the man. His name is Taichi Takeda, and he has a reputation throughout Japan for being a master of combat and martial arts. A man without a past, by his own making. Exactly the kind of men that Sojiro Shimada preferred to keep around. Men not bound by ties.

“ _ I apologize again, Young Master Shimada for disturbing you so early, _ ” Takeda says. 

“ _ There is nothing to be done about it, _ ” Hanzo says. “ _ If my father asks for my presence, then I shall be there. _ ” He starts walking, and Takeda follows behind him. They turn the corner and start descending down the main stairs.

“ _ Young Master Shimada, _ ” Takeda says, effectively stopping Hanzo. “ _ I know that you may not want to hear it… but might I offer you a piece of advice? _ ”

Hanzo stops and turns to look up at Takeda. “ _ If you must, _ ” he says. Discomfort creeps up Hanzo’s back. The look on Takeda’s face is difficult to read for many reasons, but he wears a smile that is studying and knowing.

Takeda smiles at him, a smile that was supposed to look innocent and helpful, but that made Hanzo’s guts wrench. “ _ As the future head of the Shimada clan, I would suggest that… while affiliations such as with the Americans might be in your best interest, you should certainly be careful not to be… overly friendly, _ ” Takeda says. “ _ Who knows what might happen to you… or him… if the news spread? _ ”

Hanzo’s stomach drops. “ _ How did you- _ ”

“ _ I have eyes and ears all over Hanamura, boy. _ ”

Hanzo blinks, then he is suddenly filled with determination. “ _ You will not mention this to my father _ ,” he says. “ _ It is not your business. You are out of line. _ ”

“ _ One could say the same about you and your… American friend. _ ”

“ _ Silence. I won’t stand and listen to this, _ ” Hanzo dismisses Takeda with a wave of his hand. “ _ I can’t keep my father waiting. _ ”

-

His father is in a particularly bad mood when Hanzo and Takeda arrives. He sits with his head leaned in his hands by his desk, and there are several empty cups that smell strongly of coffee. That alone makes Hanzo realize that his father is stressed out of his mind.

Hanzo bows deeply, but stays curt and short. “ _ What do you need, father? _ ” he asks.

Sojiro looks at him. His face is grave, and his brows are furrowed into a serious frown. “ _ Have a seat, Hanzo _ ,” he says. “ _ It is time we spoke of grave matters. _ ”

For a moment, Hanzo is worried that his father might know everything about him and about Jesse, but that is not the case. Either, his father doesn’t know, he doesn’t care, or he has decided to spare Hanzo the embarrassment. Hanzo doesn’t know whether or not he should be relieved or terrified.

He sits tense like a bowstring as his father explains a variety of things that need to be done, of which a large part Hanzo himself is going to be responsible for learning, doing, and overseeing.

It feels like a punishment to have so much of his time suddenly snatched away by duties. Hanzo knows, before he’s even thought for long of his new tasks, that they are going to keep him occupied for most of his days, and perhaps even nights.

Time with Jesse will be rare if existent at all. Hanzo sags slightly at the thought but straightens up quickly to appear attentive to his father’s words.

“ _ Hanzo _ ,” his father says suddenly. “ _ I will call on you again tonight. I have something we must discuss in private, so be ready, and on time. But as for right now, please leave us be. _ ”

Hanzo opens his mouth to protest but thinks better of it. Instead, he gets up, bows and then exits the office, leaving his father and Takeda behind. 

-

A strange feeling settles in Hanzo’s stomach.

A feeling of uncertainty and slight fear nestles itself into the pit of his chest, creeping and crawling within him like cold and wet tendrils. 

And with this strange new feeling, Hanzo is tasked with more and harsher tasks by his father.

He gets to leave Hanamura Castle on his own for the first time in a very long time, to meet with businessmen or potential partners in various parts of Tokyo. By the time he comes home, he is almost always exhausted and far too tired to do anything but go to bed.

Despite the late hours and the days apart, Jesse finds ways to meet him or send him messages. Little notes or thoughtful items left in meaningful places make Hanzo’s days brighter.

More times than Hanzo can count he finds a single peony, freshly picked, on his windowsill and his heart skips a beat, knowing that there’s only one person who’d leave that there. 

On nights when Hanzo can’t help but ache with longing, he sneaks out to the patio to meet with Jesse, being particularly careful not to be followed or spotted. Some nights they hide away in the reclusiveness of the garden until the sun starts to rise, and on very rare occasions Jesse is smuggled back up into Hanzo’s room for a more comfortable setting.

Hanzo can’t help himself. He feels selfish for putting Jesse in such a complicated situation, and he tells Jesse that. 

Jesse is understanding and listens carefully whenever Hanzo speaks. It makes Hanzo want to tell him more, to tell him everything that’s on his mind. Jesse nods slowly when Hanzo has finished speaking, a gentle smile etched on his face.

“Don’t worry about me,” Jesse whispers when they lie under the covers, hiding from the moonlight and any prying eyes. “If it’s you, I’d risk it all.”

“You should not throw away yourself for someone like me,” Hanzo whispers back. “A life like this isn’t one I would like for you.”

Jesse simply smiles and runs his hands over Hanzo’s cheek. “I don’t care what kind of life it is. I just want to spend it with you.” He pulls back slightly, peering into Hanzo’s eyes before he speaks again. “I love you.”

The blankets suddenly feel heavy on top of them, and Hanzo feels as if he’s burning. But it’s all good. It’s all perfect because Jesse McCree loves him.

Hanzo replies, the words as warm as his heart, “I love you too.”

-

“ _ You’re leaving me here again? _ ” Hanzo asks. “ _ For how long will you be gone? _ ”

Sojiro lets out a weary sigh. “ _ I am not sure, Hanzo. Trouble has been brewing in Osaka for some time, and I must go there to try and smooth things out, _ ” he explains. “ _ You will be alright on your own. You've proved that. _ ”

“ _ That is not what I am worried about. I am worried about you. And I am upset that you are leaving me with… with those men. _ ” Hanzo averts his gaze. “ _ You know I don’t like them. _ ”

“ _ I know, _ ” Sojiro says and walks up to his son. “ _ But you must understand, Hanzo. You are a man, and one day I will leave all of this to you. Takeda and the others only want what’s best for you. For the Shimada clan. They are here to guide you. _ ”

Hanzo looked worried. “ _ So you agree with what they say? _ ” he asks. “ _ You trust them? _ ”

“ _ I do, _ ” Sojiro says. His brows sink into a concerned frown. “ _ Do you not trust Takeda and his men, Hanzo? _ ”

“ _ I… _ ” Hanzo hesitates. “ _ I do… _ ”

“ _ If you do not trust them, then trust me, son. You are in good hands. _ ”

While Hanzo does not agree, it’s difficult to protest. “ _ Yes, father. _ ”

Sojiro nods firmly. “ _ You have become rebellious _ ,” he points out. “ _ Never have you been so doubtful of me. I know that… that it’s a difficult time right now, but this too will pass if you just listen to your elders. _ ”

“ _ Yes, father, _ ” Hanzo replies mechanically. “ _ I will listen to the elders. _ ”

His father does not look very convinced. “ _ What is with you? _ ” he asks. “ _ You are not acting like yourself. _ ”

“ _ It’s nothing, _ ” Hanzo says. “ _ I’m fine. Truly. I’m just… tired of all the work. It was such a change of pace. I went from doing nothing all day to being too busy to see the sun. I wish you would have eased me into it. _ ”

“ _ The day may come when you have to leap in, Hanzo. I did not wish to drop you headfirst into your duties like this, but it is time that you start taking responsibility. _ ”

Hanzo looks away scowling. “ _ You are the one who is not sounding like yourself, _ ” he mumbles. “ _ You do not sound like Sojiro Shimada. You sound like Taichi Takeda. _ ”

His father stares at him, bewildered.  _ “Perhaps I have been too soft on you, Hanzo. Perhaps it’s time I become more strict? _ ”

Hanzo does not reply to that.

“ _ I will travel to Osaka tomorrow morning, and I will send a message of my eventual return. In the meantime, I expect you to uphold the duties I leave you. _ ” Sojiro shakes his head. “ _ If being more firm is what I have to be for you to understand, then so be it. _ ”

“ _ Yes, father, _ ” Hanzo mumbles.

Hanzo leaves the office and wanders the castle for some time before he settles near the south building, sitting in the shade while he watches the Deadlock Gang go about their business, which consists mainly of loitering and playing cards from what Hanzo can tell.

He sits there and keeps his eyes out for Jesse, that is strangely missing. Someone else, however, catches his eyes and comes wandering over. 

“Mr. Costello,” Hanzo greets the man when he approaches, bowing his head.

“Young Master Shimada,” Marco replies with a tip of his wide-brimmed hat. “Fine day, wouldn’t ya say?”

“Very,” Hanzo says. 

Marco eyes him for a moment and produces a cigar from an inner pocket. He puts it between his lights and moves to light it but stops. “You’re lookin’ for Jesse, aren’t ya?” he asks.

Hanzo is surprised but tries not to let it show. “How did you know?” he asks.

The American shrugs oddly, chewing on the tip of the cigar and pocketing his lighter without lighting it. “He’s mentioned lookin’ for you a few times,” he says. “Gets real defensive when anyone talks of ya.”

“He speaks of me?” Hanzo asks.

Marco shakes his head. “On occasion,” he says. “I’ve practically raised the boy. I know him like I would know my own son. He thinks he’s being sneaky and subtle, but I can tell… the way he watches your window that he’s got something on ya.”

“On... me?” Hanzo doesn’t understand the saying.

“Yeah.” Marco plucks the cigar from his mouth. “I just assumed you two were buddied up. Being the same age and all… I don’t know.”

Hanzo contemplates Marco’s words. “Do you know where Jesse is?”

“Off lookin’ for you, probably. He sure as hell ain’t doing what he’s supposed to anyway.” Marco sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. “If ya see him, tell ‘em to try and get back to me about that message, alright?”

“Of course.” Hanzo rises to go and search elsewhere for Jesse.

“And hey,” Marco says, gaining Hanzo’s attention. “Keep an eye out for him, will ya?”

Hanzo looks at the American and then nods. “I will.”

-

The differences between Sojiro Shimada and Marco Costello make Hanzo ponder what his life would have been like if he grew up outside walls with someone like Marco raising him. Marco provided what Jesse liked to call ‘rough love’. 

Sojiro Shimada had his own version of rough love. Hanzo remembers when his father had been less stiff and much kinder. Back before their family was split in half, Sojiro had been a kind and just father. While he was still just, and occasionally kind, he was now much colder and much stricter.

Hanzo thinks about this as he reads one report after another that Takeda sends him. He’s spent most of the day reading, trying to memorize names and occupations that come in lists that feel like they’re miles long. 

His eyelids feel heavy, and his spirit even more so. A break would have been appreciated, but he knows he must learn, lest Takeda tells his father that he isn’t obeying. 

He is startled awake by a gentle tap on his door, followed by an even gentler whisper. “Hanzo? You awake?”

Hanzo flies up from the spot by his low desk, and all but leaps over to the door, opening it and grabbing Jesse by the collar, pulling him into the room and then quickly shutting the door again. 

“Jesse!” He hisses. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you, of course,” Jesse says with a smile. “You’ve been holed up here all day.”

Hanzo sighs. “You know you shouldn’t sneak around in the castle during night. If you get caught, things won’t end well for you.”

Jesse shrugs. “Small risk for a big reward,” he says. “I wanted to see you.” He wraps his arms around Hanzo, that immediately leans into the embrace, forgetting almost all about Jesse’s recklessness. “And don’t go tellin’ me it’s too dangerous. I can talk my way out of most things.”

“I doubt my father’s guards will pause for long enough to ask questions,” Hanzo mutters, leaning his cheek against Jesse’s chest. “But either way… I am glad that you are here.”

The young cowboy glances around the room and notices the heaps of papers and books strewn across various spots in the room. “You’re working?” he asks. “This late?” he looks down at Hanzo, a concerned frown spreading across his face. “I thought you’d be sleeping by now.”

“Yet, you are here,” Hanzo points out with a weak smile. Then he sighs and looks over at the reports. “Yes, I am working. And I am going to be working for some time more. I have yet to finish Takeda’s latest report, and he will no doubt ask me about it in the morning.”

“He sounds like a real dictator,” Jesse says.

“Yes,” Hanzo mutters. “I suppose that is one way to describe him. But it doesn’t matter. My father trusts him, so I should too. Takeda and I are very different, but… I hate to admit it, he is very competent and good at what he does.”

Jesse nods slowly. “You’re working hard to please people you don’t even like.”

“It is what I must do,” Hanzo sighs. He slumps slightly, leaning further into Jesse’s embrace.

For a moment, Jesse says nothing and rubs his hands in comforting circles on Hanzo’s back. They stay like that for about a minute, silent and comforted by each others company. 

Then, Jesse suddenly pulls back, holding Hanzo by the arms as he looks at him. “Run away with me,” he says.

The sincerity and genuine hopefulness in his voice make Hanzo do a double-take. “What?” He asks.

“Run away with me,” Jesse repeats. “You know, sneak off into the night and disappear. We’ll leave and settle down somewhere far away from here. No clans, no gangs or anything, just the two of us.”

Hanzo blinks. It sounds like the best thing he’d ever heard. Almost too good to be true. “Okay,” he says. 

“Wait, really? You would?” Jesse asks, sounding as if that wasn’t the answer he expected.

“Yes,” Hanzo says. “I would do anything for you.”

Jesse blinks. “Y-You would?” he asks. He clears his throat. “I mean… wow, okay. That’s… That’s…” He smiles to himself. “You’d really leave all this behind for me?”

Hanzo leans closer, so close that their noses nearly touch. “There is nothing for me here,” he says. “I would leave it behind in a heartbeat. Just for little old you,” he attempts to mimic one of Jesse’s sayings, which makes them both chuckle.

“Then… Let’s do it,” Jesse says. “We’ll escape together. Get out of town and hop on a boat or something. I know some places and some people that could help, but that doesn’t really matter. I’d live in a box if I could share it with you.”

Hanzo chuckles softly. “I would prefer not to live in a box, but I know what you are trying to say. I doubt we will be living in boxes, Jesse.”

“Well, you never know. Wouldn’t be the first time for me anyway.” Jesse shrugs. 

Hanzo smiles, and his chest feels as if it could burst from happiness. The warmth and the love settle nicely in the pit of his stomach as if he’s just had a hearty meal or beverage. The way Jesse looks at him, as if he’s the starry sky, makes his heart pound so wildly he barely knows what to do with himself.

Then another thought hits him, and a lot of the warmth turns into dread. “I cannot leave Hanamura until my father returns,” Hanzo says. He speaks so silently that Jesse can barely hear him. “While I long to leave with you, I cannot leave until he is back. I will not leave this place in the hands of Takeda.”

“Alright,” Jesse says. “Then… we’ll wait until your father comes back.”

-

After that night Hanzo kicks into overdrive, working twice as hard and finishing the tasks he’s given at a pace that even out-matches that of which Takeda’s. The elder seems pleased that the work is done, but not particularly pleased that Hanzo now has free time to spend.

Hanzo stops minding the work, the training, the long meetings, and the dull lessons. In fact, he happily complies, performing with an authoritarian grace that almost lives up to Sojiro Shimada himself.

Jesse runs on a similar type of high. Working with Marco and the others while in a constant daydream. 

Part of Jesse can’t believe how easy it was to convince Hanzo to go. He hadn’t even needed to convince him, Hanzo had convinced himself and spared Jesse the begging. Jesse thinks to himself that he wouldn’t have minded having to convince Hanzo to run away. He would have gladly begged and pleaded and gone down on his knees to try and persuade Hanzo to go with him if he needed to.

Marco can tell that something’s up. The way Jesse doesn’t mouth back, and accepts even the shittiest of tasks makes him believe the boy has finally gone insane like the rest of them, or has something up his sleeve. It isn't’ like him to blindly follow as he does, isn't’ like Jesse to roll over the moment Marco issues an order.

He’s uncertain if he should bring it up, and Jesse isn’t sure what to say to Marco. How does one leave a gang? Do you leave like you would a party? Turn in a resignation? Or do you run away and hope they never find you again?

Jesse and Hanzo had already come to terms that they would spend some time on the run. People would no doubt come looking for Hanzo once he’d disappeared, and in turn, they would also look for Jesse.

They’d planned to get on a train north, and eventually hop on a boat and get to the mainland.

Jesse daydreams about traveling with Hanzo. About seeing the ocean with him and spending every night together. He’d like to show Hanzo where he grew up one day, maybe settle down somewhere they both can agree on.

“McCree,” Marco’s voice interrupts his thoughts. “Are you listenin’ at all?”

“Yes, boss,” Jesse replies out of habit. “I’m listening I swear.”

Marco crosses his arms as he glares at him. “Funny, it didn’t look like you were,” he mutters. “I’ve been wondering lately if you’ve gone and dropped your common sense. Or maybe the fresh air’s gettin’ to you.”

Jesse can’t help but chuckle. “I’m fine, boss. Just… enjoying myself. Hanamura is pretty and all that. Food’s good too.”

“Then you didn’t hear a word I just said,” Marco sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “I said that you should help prepare for travel. We need to pack our things up.”

“What? Why?” Jesse asks. “We’re leaving? When?”

Marco shakes his head and lets out another heavier sigh. “Boy, I ought to smack you when you stop listenin’,” he mutters. “I said we’re leaving in a week. It’s back to the States for us.” He watches Jesse’s face fall into a slight frown. “Look, I know you like it here. You’re happy I can tell, but it’s time to go back home.”

Jesse doesn’t answer at first. He averts his eyes, looking longingly away into the distance. “What if I don’t want to go home?” he asks silently. 

Marco looks at him, but Jesse refuses to look back. “You’re impossible, Jesse McCree… do you know that?”

“I’ve been told that a few times,” Jesse says with a shrug but continues, a little less tentative, “What if I told you that I wanted to stay? Or leave?”

For a long moment, neither of them says nothing, and during that silence, Jesse sneaks curious glances at the older man, watching him consider Jesse’s words carefully. Marco doesn’t look upset or offended, but Jesse can tell that Marco isn’t sure what to say.

Then, at last, after Marco has rubbed his chin and adjusted his hat, he speaks. “Well…” he says. “Can’t say I never saw this day coming. You wantin’ to get out and all that. I don’t blame ya,” he mumbles, looking down at Jesse. “Part of me imagined you escaping with one of the bounties. Another part saw you stayin’ forever.”

“A bounty would be nice,” Jesse attempts to joke, and Marco laughs softly. 

“It would be, wouldn't it?” he says with a smile. “When you put your mind into something, no one can really stop you. Least of all me.”

“You’re right,” Jesse says. 

Marco gives him a stern look. “You should know though. That these people ain’t like us. We’ve got our rules, they’ve got theirs. I’d hate for you to go and get into more trouble than you can handle. Even if you are leaving.”

Jesse frowns and tries to comfort himself with thoughts of him and Hanzo, away from this place. The mere chance that perks him right back up. “This is worth it, Marco. He’s worth it.”

“Well then.” Marco adjusts his hat again. “At least say goodbye before you go, will ya?” He extends his hand towards Jesse. “It’s been an honor, Jesse McCree.”

With a wide smile, Jesse takes Marco’s hand and gives it a firm shake. “The honor’s been mine, Marco Costello.”

-

Hanzo spends one of his few remaining mornings in Shimada castle in the garden patio. He’s got a handful of reports with him and enjoys the gentle sunlight as he works. It’s a pleasant change from being cooped up in his room, and the fresh air helps him focus.

What does not help him focus is the singing voice that comes closer and closer, until Jesse appears with a bright smile before Hanzo. “Hanzo,” he chirps. “There you are, I was hoping you’d be here,” Jesse says with a smile. 

“Good morning, Jesse,” Hanzo answers cooly. “You are in a particularly good mood today.” Hanzo can’t help but be amused. While Jesse is normally very cheerful, it seems Jesse has taken it a step further.

“It’s Christian’s birthday,” Jesse says. “I know you don’t like it, but I thought… it’d be like a farewell party. A chance to end things on good terms with the gang, you know?” He smiles awkwardly. 

Hanzo tilts his head to the side. “They know that you are leaving?” he asks, puzzled.

“No!” Jesse says. “I haven’t told a soul about that… well, ‘cept for Marco, but it’s just because he’s the boss, ya feel?”

“I do not understand,” Hanzo says with a slight frown. “What am I supposed to feel?”

Jesse chuckles softly. “Ah, forget it. What I’m really trying to say is that I’d like you to come and hang out for a bit. A few drinks, maybe a few rounds of cards. Just… so you know part of my life.”

“Part of your life,” Hanzo echoes. It occurs to Hanzo that he doesn’t really know all that much about Jesse’s life other than what Jesse has told him. “I would like that,” Hanzo decides. “I would like to meet your friends.”

“Well… friends and friends,” Jesse mutters. “They’re a bunch of idiots I’ve grown up with. Jerks mostly, but I guess they’re kind of like family.”

“I understand,” Hanzo says. 

The young cowboy perks up, putting his hands on his hips as he grins down at Hanzo. “You come down when things start to get loud, and we’ll show you a good time,” he promises. “But don’t worry. If it gets too much, you grab me, and I’ll haul you out of there.”

Hanzo narrows his eyes at Jesse, that uses his odd American words and sayings more than usual. “Have you been drinking already?”

“It’s Christian’s birthday!” Jesse laughs. He takes a step back, still holding Hanzo’s hands in his. “We like to celebrate! A birthday’s a great feat in a gang, you know! Means you’re still alive.” He laughs softly, dancing a few steps where he stands. 

Hanzo thinks he likes the impossibly more goofy Jesse at least as much as normal Jesse. “I will be there, once I have finished up here,” he says. “Will you meet me outside?”

“Baby, I’ll meet you anywhere,” Jesse sings. “I’ll see you and your lovely face tonight.”

With that, Jesse turns and swaggers away, disappearing down the path and around the corner. 

Hanzo smiles to himself, watching the spot where Jesse’s disappeared with a fond look before he goes back to work. He can’t wait to learn more about Jesse McCree.

-

Everyone in the Shimada castle knows when the party in the Deadlock’s residence starts. Hanzo would be surprised in not all of Hanamura knows. 

Much to Hanzo's relief, the noise drives most of the castles staff and guards away. Provided the noisy gathering doesn't turn violent, no one is going to stop or bother the gang. For a moment, Hanzo ponders how blissfully unaware the gang seems to be of the seriousness and the stiffness of the Japanese clans and the yakuza. He wonders if the gang truly doesn't know, or if they know and thinks they stand a chance to win or slither out of any trouble. 

Jesse strikes Hanzo as the kind that knows when he's taken a bite bigger than he can chew, but Jesse is also stubborn and takes pride in things that shouldn't be considered particularly prideful. 

When Hanzo sneaks out of the castle, he takes the long way around the garden to meet up with Jesse near the south building. Jesse stands and speaks with another gang member. They laugh, and Hanzo wonders for a moment if he should wait until they have finished speaking, or if he should interrupt. 

Jesse spots him before he has time to decide and raises a hand and waves at him. "You made it," he says, his smile growing even wider. "I was just about to go and look for you." 

"There is no need for you to do so," Hanzo says and approaches the two men, smiling shyly at the stranger. 

"This is Logan," Jesse says. "Loges, this is Hanzo." 

"Master of the house, I know," Logan says and chuckles nervously. He's taller than Jesse, but his hair is cropped short, and he sports a badly kept beard. "You here to finally kick us out?" He asks. 

Hanzo shakes his head. "No such thing. Jesse invited me." 

Logan looks surprised and turns to Jesse with his eyebrows arched high on his forehead. "You invited the head of the house to this?" He sounds as surprised as he looks. 

"I thought it'd be nice," Jesse says and shrugs. “Christian ought to be honored to have our host seeing to his birthday celebration.”

Logan does not mention that it's a very strange thing to do, not even when Jesse brings Hanzo inside to meet the others. Most of them are too busy, or too drunk, to realize who Hanzo is. More than once, Hanzo is mistaken for staff rather than a Shimada, which Hanzo finds is oddly comforting.

The Deadlock Gang are surprisingly friendly despite their name and appearance. Most of the members are strangely ordinary and much like Jesse in many ways. 

Jesse never strays far from Hanzo's side. Most of the time he stands so close their arms brush against one another. On occasion, he ever puts a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder, or on his arm as if to make sure that Hanzo is having a good time.

And Hanzo does end up having a good time. Not the kind he’s used to. Nothing with the Deadlock Gang is what Hanzo is used to. They care little of respect and modesty, and it’s so very crude and loud but also honest. Hanzo is reminded of his brother, and wonders if Genji would grow up to be as loud and carefree as these men if he’d been given the chance.

The thoughts of his brother do bring him into somewhat of a slump, but Jesse is there and quickly sweeps Hanzo’s bad mood away with pleasant words and jokes that are funnier than Hanzo wants to admit.

“I didn’t expect you to be here,” Marco says when Jesse is swept away by a handful of his friends to compete in yet another drinking game. Hanzo stands alone for a moment and watches, with Marco standing beside him. “Not sure how he managed to convince you to come see our mess.”

Hanzo looks up at the man, that has a glass rather than a bottle in his hand. “It did not take much convincing,” Hanzo admits shyly. “All it took was the right words.”

Marco snorts. “McCree does have a way to talk his way in and out of things,” he mumbles. They stand in silence for a while and watch the others cheer each other on. Whatever game they’re playing, Hanzo doesn’t understand. 

“Family,” Hanzo hears himself say suddenly. Even Marco seems surprised to hear that. “That is what Jesse called you earlier today,” Hanzo says. He watches Jesse laugh with his arm around Logan, both cheering for who Hanzo understands is Christian. “That is why I came.”

“Huh,” Marco huffs. He looks down at Hanzo, then over at Jesse. “That lil’ son of a bitch,” he chuckles. 

Suddenly, Jesse parts from Logan, whispering something in his ear before withdrawing his arm. Logan grins at him, slapping Jesse on the arm before he shoves him away. “Bore!” He boos and Jesse laughs, loud and honest as he walks away, back towards Hanzo.

“I need some fresh air,” Jesse says. “You wanna take a walk?”

“I would like that,” Hanzo says with a nod. He glances up at Marco that gives him an approving nod. 

Marco gives them a sly look. “You two head off. You know where we’ll be.”

“Half of Japan knows where you are, with all this noise,” Jesse says with a teasing smile before he drags Hanzo out through the backdoor. 

Hanzo lets Jesse pull him along, and he finds that he doesn’t mind at all. 

Jesse hums softly, singing to himself as he walks through the garden with Hanzo in tow. The night is colder than usual, but Jesse’s hand is warm. 

“Where are we going?” Hanzo asks, though he has a feeling.

Jesse smiles at him from over his shoulder. “To our special place, of course,” he says. “I want you alone for a few minutes.”

“My time is yours,” Hanzo replies softly, and Jesse gives him one of the most affectionate and genuine smiles Hanzo has ever seen. 

The young cowboy stops for a moment and pulls Hanzo close, catching his lips in a shameless kiss. Hanzo melts into Jesse’s touch, appreciating the moment and Jesse’s lips on his. “I love you,” Jesse says when they part. “I love you so much I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Hanzo kisses him again. “You are being silly.”

“I ain’t,” Jesse insists with a chuckle. “If you only knew, you’d be thinkin’ the same.”

“I know,” Hanzo says. “It feels like birds in my chest, and a fire in the pit of my stomach. It feels like my head is full of soft cotton, and my hands are cold without yours in them. It feels as if the world is dark when you are out of sight, and when I am with you, nothing else matters.”

Jesse stands awestruck for almost a whole minute. “And people say I have a way with words,” he coos, pressing kisses on Hanzo’s cheeks. “It’s like poetry every time you speak.”

Hanzo chuckles softly, and Jesse squeezes his hands. “It is not difficult to speak to truth to you.”

“I’m gonna fall head over heels if you keep sayin’ sweet things like that,” Jesse says. “Now come on. I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted you to myself for a bit.”

“You can have me,” Hanzo murmurs before Jesse pulls him further into the garden, away from the noise and into the dark.

-

It’s all Jesse can do to contain himself during the days as he waits for the sun to set so that he can make his way back to Hanzo’s side. He’s always careful when he’s sneaking into the castle, never taking the same way twice in a row. 

This time however, someone else waits for him in the middle of the dark corridor, blocking his path and making his heart nearly stop in his chest.

Jesse stops abruptly when he spots the man before him. He bites back a curse, knowing that there’s no turning back without appearing extremely suspicious. But Jesse is not supposed to be in the castle, and there is no excuse he can make that would put him there. 

The man watches him for some time before he smiles. The smile is sly and kind, but it makes an icy shudder race up Jesse’s spine. He does not recognize the man, but he doesn’t look like a guard or any kind of staff. “Good evening,” the man says smoothly. “Out for a nightly stroll?”

Jesse doesn’t know what to answer. He gulps and scrambles to come up with an excuse, or an explanation, but the man’s smile is disarming and cunning. 

“You shouldn’t be sneaking around in the dark like this,” the man says. “One might think you’re up to no good.”

“I’m not here to cause any trouble,” Jesse says. 

The man chuckles lowly. “I should hope not, or I’d have to call the guards,” he says. He suddenly goes silent and walks up to Jesse. His pace is slow and his body language casual, but Jesse can’t help but tense up, as if he’s being stalked by a vicious prey. 

He takes a step back without thinking, bumping into the wall behind him. 

“Are you frightened?” the man asks. “You needn’t be. If you truly are not here to cause trouble, that is.” He steps up to Jesse so that they’re less than an arm’s length apart. “I heard that you were leaving. You and the other Americans. In a couple of days, is that right?”

Jesse can’t do anything but nod.

“You should be preparing yourself, then.” The man smiles down at him. This time, the smile is not as friendly. “You wouldn’t want to… leave anything behind, would you? It would be a shame to lose something important because of carelessness, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, sir,” Jesse manages to say. He himself is surprised by how steady his voice is.

The man before him, however, looks amused. “I shall not keep you. Be on your way, young man. I’m sure you have lots to do before your departure.”

With that, the man turns to the right and disappears down the corridor the way Jesse came. Once he’s out of sight, Jesse allows himself to breathe, and once the footsteps are far away enough not to be heard, Jesse continues on his way to Hanzo’s room. 

He ascends the stairs and takes a left, moving to the end of the hallway where Hanzo’s room is. Jesse takes several deep breaths before he slides the door to the side and slips into the room. 

The lights in Hanzo’s room are dim and said young man sits by his desk with his head leaned in his arms. He appears to be sleeping or at least resting with his eyes closed. Jesse approaches silently.

“You’re here,” Hanzo murmurs, without opening his eyes. “I thought you’d be too busy to see me tonight.”

Jesse hesitates for a moment, wondering if he should tell Hanzo about what had just happened down in the dark corridors of the Shimada Castle. He decides not to, but Hanzo has already noticed that something is wrong.

“What is the matter?” Hanzo asks, opening his eyes and raising his head to look at Jesse. “Did something happen?”

“Don’t worry about me, darlin’,” Jesse says, putting on a smile. “I’m just a bit nervous, that’s all.” He crosses the room and sits down next to Hanzo with his legs crossed and his hands in his lap. “I spoke to Marco today. The gang’s rolling out of here soon, and we need to be out of here before then.”

Hanzo tilts his head to the side. His long hair falls like a silk curtain over his shoulder. “My father is due to return the day after tomorrow. That is when we must go,” he says. 

Jesse nods. “I’m ready when you are.”

For a moment, Hanzo studies Jesse. Searching for cracks in the facade that Jesse seems to be putting up. He wonders briefly what Jesse is hiding, but decides that if Jesse does not want to share it, then he won’t press.

Jesse, on the other hand, feels a pang of guilt prick him in the throat. He isn’t the dishonest type, and the last person he wants to be dishonest with is Hanzo. Yet he can’t bring himself to explain his meeting with the strange man downstairs.

Hanzo pushes himself away from the desk and scoots closer to Jesse, raising a hand and gently caressing the cowboy’s cheek. “Soon we’ll be out of here,” Hanzo says. “Two more days and it will be just the two of us.”

“Just the two of us,” Jesse murmurs. “Part of me doesn’t want to wait.”

“The same goes for me,” Hanzo says with a fond smile. “Part of me wishes we left the night you first kissed me.”

Jesse nods. “Wouldn’t that have been something?”

Hanzo smiles at him, then gets up and pulls Jesse to his feet before dragging him over to the bed. They get comfortable among the sheets and the pillows, wrapped up in each other's arms. 

“Tell me, Jesse. Where you are going to take me once we are out of here,” Hanzo whispers, leaning his head against Jesse’s chest. 

“I’ll take you wherever you want to go,” Jesse promises. “No matter where. I’ll take you there.”

Hanzo nods slowly, his cheek rubbing against the soft fabric of Jesse’s shirt. “Tell me more,” he pleads.

“We’ll meet up back on the hill with the flowers and the cherry trees. The make our way down the other side, hopping on the first train out of here. I’ll take you to see the ocean. Maybe have a swim, who knows?”

“I am not sure I know how to swim,” Hanzo confesses with a silent chuckle. “I have not been swimming for years.”

Jesse chuckles too. “I’ll teach you then. You’ll swim like a champion after I’m done with ya,” he says. “Maybe we’ll even be able to swim all the way across the ocean?” he jokes, and Hanzo gently slaps him on the chest. “I want to show you all the places I’ve been,” Jesse continues. “And I want to find new places with you by my side.”

“More,” Hanzo whispers. “Tell me more.”

Jesse stays and murmurs sweets words and worldly promises into Hanzo’s ear long into the small hours of the night.

-

Things pick up the day of Sojiro Shimada’s return. 

Hanzo finds himself in his room, casting longing glances at the bag peeking out from his closet. It’s small and only has room for the essentials. He took the bag from Genji’s room, a practical memento to bring with him. 

His fingers twitch, and he’s certain that if he still had legs, they would itch to get going, to run far away from Shimada Castle.

The work he’s been assigned lies in a neat stack on his desk, ready to be read by whoever will find it once he’s gone. He thought of leaving a note somewhere for his father to find, but the chance of the note making it to his father’s hand, and not Takeda’s is too small for Hanzo to risk it.

Instead, he plans to send his father a message once he’s far enough away, and once he has a good head start to whatever manhunt might ensue.

He spots Jesse from the window in his room, running around down in the courtyard while Marco points and shouts about various things that need to be stowed away, packed and carried onto the truck they’re eventually leaving with.

Despite the hard work and the shouting, Jesse appears to be just as excited and relieved as Hanzo. They spot each other once, and they both stop and seem to realize that their departure is within reach.

It knocks on the door to Hanzo’s room, and Hanzo quickly retreats from the window and kicks the bag back into the closet. “ _ Yes? _ ” he calls.

“ _ Young Master Shimada. Are you ready for your lesson? _ ” Taichi Takeda asks through the door. “ _ The others are waiting. _ ”

“ _ I will be right with you _ ,” Hanzo says, looking himself over in the mirror before he goes to open the door. Takeda waits just outside, wearing his usual strange smile. “ _ Lead the way _ ,” Hanzo says.

“ _ Of course. _ ”

The lesson, or rather, the meeting drags on for longer than Hanzo expects. By the time he’s allowed to leave it’s already dusk, and the sun lingers just above the horizon. Hanzo is restless and wants to be on his way, but he has to wait until it’s dark.

He decides to take a walk to clear his head and to distract himself, and he passes the south building on his way through to the patio. He runs into Marco, that looks thoughtful and a bit unfocused.

“Howdy,” he murmurs when Hanzo walks into view. “Nice evening, ain’t it?”

Hanzo stops to chat and welcomes the distraction. “Truly,” he says. “Summer is almost here.” He glances around in the garden, and then over his shoulder at the south house, where the Deadlock Gang has been holed up for the past few months. “It is going to be very quiet here without you around.”

Marco chuckles lowly. “Ain’t that the truth. I bet you’re happy to be rid of us.”

“I think I might miss it a bit,” Hanzo confesses. 

“I’m honored,” Marco says. He smiles, but the smile quickly fades into a look of concern. An expression that reminds Hanzo of his mother’s face when Genji picked up his first blade. “Listen,” Marco says. “That thing I said a while back… it still stands, right?”

Hanzo looks up at him, confused. 

“I need you to look after Jesse for me,” Marco continues. “He looks, sounds, and acts tough, but he needs someone to watch his back. And more importantly, he needs someone to trust. He’s a sensitive boy, no matter what he says.”

It dawns on Hanzo that Marco knows that he and Jesse are leaving. “I will stay with him,” Hanzo promises. “I will look after him.”

Marco nods slowly. “It puts an ol’ man’s heart to rest. Well… a bit at least.”

“Do you know where Jesse is now?”

“Off lookin’ for you per usual,” Marco says. “Left his vest behind this time though.” There’s a sad look in the American’s eyes, as if he misses Jesse already. “I guess it was his way of sayin’ goodbye.”

Hanzo frowns. “He will contact you again, I am sure,” he offers. 

Marco shakes his head. “Let’s hope not. If he wants to quit this, I’m the first contact he should cut.”

“I think…” Hanzo hesitates. “I believe he sees a father in you. Jesse will not cut his ties to you that easily. One day you will hear from him again.”

Comforted, but still concerned, Marco nods. “I see why he likes you,” he says. “You’re a good sort. I can tell.” He steps back and tips his hat. “Should you ever need to get a hold of me, Jesse knows how to find me,” he says. Then he straightens up, turns around and heads back towards the south building.

Hanzo continues his walk, itching to leave and meet up with Jesse.

-

Hanzo escapes from the castle just a handful of hours after his father returns to Shimada Castle. Sojiro is in a bad mood and only briefly greets him before dismissing him, which isn’t how Hanzo wants to part from his father. Despite the coldness and the slight annoyance in their last meeting, Hanzo has since long made peace with the fact that he is leaving.

Once he has gathered the bag from his room, he sneaks through the garden and slips out through the gate. He locks it behind himself and then tosses the key back over the wall, into the garden. 

He won’t be needing it anymore.

The walk through Hanamura is tense. There are a lot of people out, and Hanzo blends in easily, but he can’t help but feel as if he is being watched. Lingering glances make him nervous, and once or twice, he bumps into someone and thinks he might have been caught when it was simply an accident.

Relief washes over him when he reaches the foot of the steep hill, and he takes a moment to look over his shoulder before he makes his way off the street and into the small path through trampled flower beds and dense foliage. He trudges up the hill, brushing past slim branches and prickly bushes until he reaches the top.

“Jesse?” he calls softly as he steps into the clearing, but there is no one there. “Jesse?” he calls again, spotting Jesse’s bag leaned against one of the trees. 

Perhaps Jesse has just taken a short walk? Hanzo thinks. Perhaps he is hiding, waiting to pounce on him and offer one of his charming jokes?

But Jesse isn’t hiding, nor has he taken any walks. Jesse McCree simply isn’t there. But his things are. Hanzo recognizes the tacky hat, the worn bag, and the flannel shirts within it.

Worry digs its claws into him at once. 

“ _ He isn’t coming, Hanzo _ ,” a voice speaks behind him. 

Hanzo swirls around, spotting a man approaching him from the shadows. “ _ Takeda _ ,” Hanzo says. “ _ What are you doing here? _ ”

“ _ I am here to return you to Shimada Castle, of course, _ ” Takeda says. “ _ You shouldn’t be here. You should be at the castle, where you belong. _ ”

“ _ Where is Jesse? _ ” Hanzo asks. 

“ _ Not here, _ ” Takeda says. He sighs and emerges from the shadow of the bushes. “ _ And he is not coming either _ .”

Hanzo gulps. “ _ He will come _ ,” Hanzo insists. “ _ And we will leave this place _ .”

Takeda frowns. “ _ Hanzo… your friend isn’t coming. I’m sorry. _ ” He steps closer, offering Hanzo a hand. “ _ Please, just return with me. Things will be clear once we return. _ ”

Hanzo reels back from the elder. “ _ No _ ,” he says. “ _ Where is Jesse? Why isn’t he here? _ ”

“ _ Hanzo… _ ” Takeda’s frown grows. “ _ Don’t be like this. You are not this naive _ .”

“ _ Where is he? _ ” Hanzo demands, shouting across the clearing. “ _ Where is Jesse? _ ”

Takeda lowers his hand and shakes his head. “ _ Hanzo. Do not make me do these things. Please, it’s better that you simply return. Your father is waiting for you as we speak. _ ” He hesitates. “ _ Come with me, and I’ll help you talk him down. He is already angry. _ ”

“ _ Angry? _ ” Hanzo asks. “ _ Because I’m leaving? Is he not overjoyed that the failure of the Shimada clan has chosen to disappear into the night? Isn’t he glad that he won’t have to be reminded of what he’s lost each time he looks at me? _ ”

“ _ Hanzo… _ ” Takeda sighs. “ _ There’s nothing I can do. Please, don’t make me use force. _ ”

“ _ Where is Jesse?! _ ” Hanzo shouts. “ _ Tell me where he is! _ ” Takeda shakes his head, and Hanzo’s frustration grows. Tears well up in his eyes. “ _ Tell me where he is! _ ” he repeats, so loud it feels as if his voice is about to break. 

“ _ The American is dead _ ,” Takeda says. 

Hanzo’s blood freezes in his veins, and he clenches his hands into fists. “ _ You lie! _ ” He shouts. “ _ He is not dead! You are lying! _ ”

Takeda looks at him, eyes filled with compassion. “ _ I don’t want to do this, but you leave me no choice, _ ” he says. He whistles, a clear and high pitched tone the seem to summon a handful of men dressed in black attire and masks. 

Hanzo looks around, fear rising in his throat. “ _ Who are these men? _ ” he asks. “ _ Why are they here? _ ”

“ _ Show him, _ ” Takeda says. His voice is hollow, and his expression even more so. “ _ I am sorry, Hanzo. _ ”

One of the men steps forward, close enough to toss a bundle to land by Hanzo’s feet. The bundle makes a dull thud when it lands. Its elongated shape is odd, and Hanzo has to really look to realize what it is.

It’s an arm.

More so, Hanzo recognizes the hand almost as well as he would his own. It’s Jesse’s.

The arm is severed in the middle of the forearm, painfully snapped in half with bony fragments still clinging to the sticky coagulated blood. The sight alone is enough to make Hanzo clutch his own arm, with horror and imaginary pain.

Hanzo feels as if his stomach is about to leap up into his throat. An unpleasant heat races from the pit of his stomach to his head and he feels dizzy, as if he’s about to faint. “ _ No _ ,” he says, looking at Takeda. “ _ It can’t be- _ ”

“ _ Hanzo, please, _ ” Takeda begs him. “ _ It’s best if you forget about all this, and come back. If you come back now, your father might still forgive you. _ ”

“ _ Forgive me?! _ ” Hanzo hisses, tears his gaze from the severed arm and turns it to Takeda. “ _ He would forgive me? _ ”

Takeda sighs. “ _ I did not want to do this, Hanzo. I did not want to deliver these news, nor do I want to be the one who has to drag you back. _ ” He shakes his head. “ _ I too wish that things were different. To spare myself, and you of such sadness. _ ”

Hanzo wants to laugh, a manic and humorless laugh. “ _ Sad? _ ” he asks. “ _ If you think that I am sad, then you are sorely mistaken. I am angry. _ ”

“ _ The anger will pass. _ ”

“ _ This anger will never pass! _ ” Hanzo roars, and something else roars with him, amplifying his enraged shouting by tenfold. Takeda and his men draw back, fear painted all over their faces. “ _ Get out of my way! Lest I crush you like the spineless snake you are! _ ”

-

The pain is like acid within him, eating away at everything that isn’t coated with anger and spite. It feels like there are a million knives under his skin, egging him on as he flies down the hill and darts through darkened alleyways back to the Shimada castle.

Two men had tried to stop him, and Hanzo had left them crushed like bugs under his steel feet. The rest had retreated, among them Takeda.  _ Cowards _ , Hanzo curses them.  _ They should pray we don’t cross paths again, or I will tear them down too. _

Hanzo doesn’t allow himself to slow down until he stands outside the walls of Shimada Castle. The moon hangs above in the sky when Hanzo scales the wall and lands soundlessly on the other side.

He walks silently through the grounds, making his way back up to the south wing without being neither spotted nor heard. It’s almost too easy, Hanzo thinks.

Tonight he is the assassin.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had MAJOR issues with the formatting on this. I had to sift through the entire chapter manually and correct it and I really hope I didn't miss anything. Sorry if I did. Anyway, please enjoy!

Chapter 4

A chilly breeze passes through Hanamura. An eerie silence has settled over the Shimada Castle, and there is unusual unrest among its staff. Guards roam the hallways and wander the garden. Their pace twice as fast and their routes twice as thorough.

But despite the silence, the darkness of the night, and the discord among his guards, Sojiro Shimada is awake and sits in his office by his desk. There’s a sheet of stark white paper splayed before him, and on it, various events and happenings are listed in neat and steady writing. He is supposed to be catching up on what has happened in Hanamura during his absence, but little of what he reads is interesting enough to keep his attention.

Sojiro Shimada’s attention is not directed towards the stale reports, nor the sudden howl of the wind. His attention lies on the door before him, at the far end of his office, but his gaze rests on the message at the corner of his desk.

A warning. Ominous words telling hi that this night might be his last. He is not surprised. He has been through this many times before.

Yet this time something doesn’t feel right.

He says nothing when the door to his office slides open and his son steps into the room. The soft click of metal on the wooden floor is soon silenced by the _tatami_ on his office floor. Sojiro knows his son’s footsteps, but even if he hadn’t heard Hanzo coming, he would still know.

Hanzo closes the door behind him. His presence in the room is palpable as he turns to face his father.

Sojiro slowly raises his head, and his gaze to meet his son’s. “_There you are,_” Sojiro says.

The younger Shimada stands in the doorway, dressed in all blue with his hair tied back with a golden ribbon. He stares at his father, his gaze cold and filled with contempt. He’s got his bow in one hand, and an arrow in the other. The quiver on his back contains several more.

“_I have been waiting,_” Sojiro says.

Hanzo does not answer and responds to his father’s words by nocking an arrow on his bow. Again, Sojiro is not surprised. He remains calm and collected, as he always does even in situations where his life might be on the line, and as always, it irks Hanzo to see his father so placid. His hatred boils within him as he aims his weapon at the head of the house.

“_Is this it? _ ” Sojiro asks. “ _ Are you going to kill me? _”

“_Yes,_” Hanzo replies, voice empty and face void of emotion. 

“_When I was warned about an assassin coming to claim my life I did not expect the assassin to be my own son,_” Sojiro says. “_But perhaps it’s what I deserve._”

“_It is better than you deserve, _” Hanzo hisses, trying and failing to conceal the brief burst of anger.

For some time, Sojiro watches his son. Then he slowly gets up, rounds his desk and stands before Hanzo with his hands folded behind his back. “_I am no fool, Hanzo. You are angry. I can see it. Feel it radiating from you. The dragons are with you now, not me._”

“_As they should be,_” Hanzo retorts. “_The dragons do not side with monsters_.”

“_Am I the monster? _ ” Sojiro raises an eyebrow. “_You are the one aiming a weapon at your own flesh and blood._”

“_Flesh and blood mean nothing now._”

Those words draw anger from Sojiro. His face contorts into an angry scowl, and his usually composed shoulders tremble with rage. “_Did I not provide for you? Protect you and keep you safe? _ ” He asks. “_I only want what’s best for you, and you cannot fault me for that! _”

“_You don’t want what’s best for me. You want what’s best for the clan._”

Slowly, Sojiro raises his hand in surrender and begins to approach his son. “_It is in your best interest_.”

The arrow springs from the bow and whistles past Sojiro’s ear, nestling itself in the wall somewhere behind him. “_It is not,_” Hanzo says, nocking another arrow to the bow. Sojiro stares. “_If you truly wanted what’s best for me, then you would think of what I want as well as what I need. You would not push your men and your ways on me._” Hanzo aims his weapon again, remaining still and steadfast. “_You would not treat me with such coolness, or such hurtful indifference. You would not lose your humanity for the sake of long-dead ancestors_.”

There is a long pause. Father and son stare one another down for what feels like hours. Then Sojiro bows his head, seemingly admitting defeat. His usually impeccable posture deflates and a frown grows on his face. “_Do you really hate me so, Hanzo? _” he asks.

His son does not answer, and several moments of silence pass them by. Neither of them moves, or look away from each other. 

Sojiro takes a deep breath. “_What would you have done in my place? _ ” he whispers, slowly shaking his head. “_What do you know of what needs to be done? _”

A second arrow flies by his head, narrowly missing him before it lodges itself beside the first arrow. The fletching passes him so close that it flicks his ear. It promptly silences him.

“_I would not have left my family behind. Nor would I assume their wills,_” Hanzo says. “_Say your prayers. I will make it quick._” He nocks a third and seemingly final arrow.

“_Tell me at least, _ ” Sojiro says as he straightens back up into his proud posture, “_what it is that you want, Hanzo. Look me in the eyes and tell me why it must be this way._”

The younger Shimada glares at him from across the room. “_I fight for what I believe in. I do not run,_” he hisses. “_I fight for those that I love, and I avenge them._”

“_It has been years, Hanzo, _ ” Sojiro murmurs. “_Have you truly harbored this hatred for so long? I pity you._”

Hanzo hesitates, and for a moment his muscles feel heavy and unusable until he tenses back up, forcing his body to remains attentive and ready. “_Do not act dumb,_” he says. “_You had Jesse killed so that I would stay in Hanamura._”

“_I had no one killed,_” Sojiro says, shaking his head. “_Least of all this ‘Jesse’ that you speak of._”

“_You lie! _ ” Hanzo shouts. “_I saw it myself! With my own eyes! Takeda- _ ” Hanzo stops and draws in a sharp breath. “_Ta-... Takeda…_” He realizes it too late, and the emotions inside his chest make it difficult to think and move and act.

His father steps forward, his face concerned and unusually soft. “_Takeda- _”

Sojiro’s words are cut short by a dull thump and a blue arrow piercing his chest, lodging itself just above his heart. He chokes on his breath and it feels as if time stops within the office.

Hanzo stares at the arrow in his father’s chest and then looks down at the arrow still nocked on his bow. He turns around just in time to see Takeda lower a bow of his own. 

“_Takeda_,” Sojiro grunts. “_You_…”

The younger Shimada turns around, twisting his body before he comes to a standstill. The red fleck where the arrow sits in his father’s chest grows larger, and larger until Sojiro’s blue robes are almost black with blood. 

But it isn’t before Sojiro starts to collapse that Hanzo regains control of his body. He darts forward, tossing his bow and the arrow aside to catch Sojiro before he falls face-first onto the ruined _ tatami_. “_Father! _ ” He cries. “_No! Not like this!_”

Sojiro Shimada, however, does not respond. His eyes are glossy but hold no recognition and his chest is still, no life left within. 

As quickly as he’d rushed to his father’s side, Hanzo withdraws from the body, as if he’s burned himself on his father’s corpse. He gets up, stumbling back and nearly tripping over his weapon that he quickly gathers.

“_Look at what you have done, Hanzo,_” Takeda says. “_You have killed him! _”

“_I did not do anything,_” Hanzo says, shaking his head. When he looks back at the man in the doorway, Takeda stands empty-handed. “_You killed him! _”

Takeda shakes his head slowly. His long hair falls like a black veil around his face, framing his sharp features. “_You came here to kill your father. It is one of your arrows in his chest._”

“_I did not kill him! _ ” Hanzo shouts. “_You tricked me! Betrayed him! Betrayed us! _”

Several of the Shimada clan’s guards appear in the doorway and take the scene in. No matter what he does or says, Hanzo knows what it looks like. Takeda points an accusing finger at him. “_There! He killed Sojiro Shimada! He killed his father! _”

“_No! _” Hanzo cries, but the guards are already pouring into the room to seize him.

Hanzo turns, leaping over his father’s body and ramming his body through the thin rice-paper door on the south side of the office. It breaks easily and allows him to keep most of his momentum as he skids on the wooden floors, his prosthetics leaving long scratches on the boards.

“_He’s getting away! Go after him! _”

He runs through the maze of corridors and hallways. His ears ring but he can hear the telltale noise of blades being drawn, bowstring being tightened and arrows rustling in quivers. He dares to glance over his shoulder and catches a glimpse of the guards that have managed to keep up with him. There are three of them, but he can hear more coming their way.

Hanzo stops, aiming to face the guards. They come towards him with their weapons drawn. Each man equipped with a _ tantō _that glistens in the darkened corridor. Hanzo draws a blade of his own. The blade is short and Hanzo has forgotten its proper name, but it does not matter.

_ Kodachi, brother! Like a small sword! _

His blade clashes with the first guard that reaches him. Their weapons let out a ring so sharp and pitched that Hanzo winces. The second guard catches up and Hanzo narrowly evades the attack, raising his own blade just in time to block and he swears that he sees sparks fly from the awkward impact.

The corridor is too narrow, and Hanzo is outnumbered. He retreats, falling back and escaping around the corner only to end up at the south courtyard, outside his father’s office where he has started. 

Out in the open, he is vulnerable and he can see several guards on the roof aiming nocked arrows at him. It’s too much. Too many foes, and he could not dodge all those arrows even if he was blessed.

Hanzo closes his eyes and waits for the onslaught of arrows to tear him apart but they never come. Instead, there’s a hand gripping his arm and pulling him back, in under a sheath of metal that’s thin enough to the arrows to piece but thick enough to stop them.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed standin’ still like that, kid.”

Hanzo’s eyes open and it’s Marco sitting there, huddled under their makeshift cover with him. “Costello,” he gasps, and that’s all he has time to do before a gunshot rings out, followed by a storm of them.

“Get your ass out of the open.” Marco shoves him in the side, pushing him towards the south building where the Deadlocks have been staying. 

As they’re running, it occurs to Hanzo that the storm of bullets and gunfire if the Deadlock gang providing them with covering fire, and when he and Marco are safe within the house, out of reach of arrows and the like, Hanzo turns to the man with a frown that’s oozing with guilt. 

“Jesse,” Hanzo says. “Jesse is dead.”

Marco scowls down at him. “The boy ain’t dead,” he says. “That what that Takeda bastard wants you to think.”

“No,” Hanzo shakes his head. The sounds of shouting and firearms make it hard to concentrate. “But I saw-”

“You saw that thing and you thought the worst,” Marco says with a nod. “Well… I don’t blame ya. It’s fucked to hell.” He puts a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder and leans closer. “Listen to me, kid. Jesse ain’t dead, but he will be if you two stick around. You grab him and you get out of here. I’ll take care of this mess.”

Hanzo keeps shaking his head. “I cannot leave. They think I have killed my father,” he says. “And I do now knot where Jesse is!”

“You don’t, but I do,” Marco says. “He’s hiding out in that lil’ house in the garden, but he ain’t going to make it far without you.” He lets go of Hanzo and grabs a bag from the floor. He walks over to a crate and starts shoving things into the bag. Some clothes, a few stacks of bills, and a gun with some ammunition. “Shit, he’s not going to make it at all if you don’t get over there quick,” he mutters and shoves the bag into Hanzo’s arms. “You go, and we stay.”

“I cannot just leave you here! Not like this,” Hanzo says with a frown.

“We’ll handle it,” Marco assures him with a nonchalant shrug. “Been in worse situations. They don’t even have any omnics.”

Some kind of relief washes over Hanzo. He understands at once what Marco is saying, and more importantly; what he has to do. Hanzo steps back and falls into a deep bow, bending at the middle with his arms by his sides. “Thank you,” he says. “I will not forget this.”

Marco looks taken aback but he flashes Hanzo a quick smile and a brief nudge. “Less thankin’ and more runnin’, kid. My boys are good but they aren’t made of bullets. Get my boy out of this, and we’ll call this even.”

Hanzo looks around. Some of the other gang members look at him and nod. In approval or silent respect, Hanzo isn’t sure. Either way, he<realizes, they are ready to lay down their lives for him, and for Jesse.

Hanzo wants to say something, but there is no time and Marco has already turned away. So Hanzo runs. He hoists the bag onto his shoulder and grips his bow as he sneaks out through the back door, ducking into the nearest bush for cover.

-

The gardens provide ample cover. Out here, Hanzo has the advantage. The gardens lie mostly empty and whatever guards roam around Hanzo has no trouble taking down. 

Despite the men once being there to protect him, and their faces being ones that Hanzo grew up to feel safe around, he leaves no time for himself to feel bad about killing them. If he had to choose between them or Jesse, Hanzo would choose Jesse a thousand times over.

The area around the patio is completely empty. The new distraction of the Deadlock Gang has drawn everyone south, and Hanzo finds himself alone as he jogs down along the path and up towards the small building.

He wants to call out, but he’s too scared of attracting unwanted attention. But when he climbs the stairs to the deck he can’t help himself. “Jesse?” He calls as loud as he dares. “Jesse, please answer me.”

Hanzo looks over his shoulder, double and triple-checking so that he isn’t being followed before he rounds the corner and enters the small house.

It feels as if his heart stops in his chest when he sees Jesse, propped up in the corner, pale and still. Hanzo drops everything and rushes over, kneeling beside Jesse and taking his hand in his. It’s cold. Much colder than he would like. 

“_Jesse, no. Please,_” he cries. “_Please, don’t do this to me. _”

A long silence follows and Hanzo can’t hold back his tears. Everything hurts, and he’s sure that he is dying of grief. 

“Hey,” Jesse breaths. His voice is so weak it’s barely heard over the slight breeze in the garden. “Hey, it’s okay, darling. I’m just resting my eyes,” he says. “Just restin’.”

Hanzo lets out a relieved sob. “Jesse.”

“I’m here, Hanzo. Still kicking’.” Jesse does not open his eyes. 

Hanzo takes a moment to look him and his injuries over. Jesse is bruised and beaten, and Hanzo can’t stand to look at Jesse’s left arm, the limb ending in a stump just above his elbow. It’s, at least and to Hanzo’s relief, crudely wrapped with some kind of gauze and Hanzo hopes and prays that it is enough.

He puts his hand on Jesse’s cheek, softly caressing it. “We are leaving,” he says. “I am getting you out of here.”

Jesse nods, still not opening his eyes. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day,” he murmurs. He groans when Hanzo slithers a hand under his remaining arm and pull him off the floor. He takes a moment once he’s up to regain his bearings and listen. “Is that… people shooting?”

“Mr. Costello and the others are providing us with covering fire,” Hanzo explains as he carefully bends down and picks his bow up. “Can you walk? Here, lean on me.”

Slowly, Jesse opens his eyes. He looks at Hanzo, tired and weak, and smiles. “You’re beautiful,” he says. He raises his remaining hand and brushes some of Hanzo’s hair, strands that have gotten loose from the silk ribbon, away from his face. Hanzo’s cheeks are wet. “You really must be an angel.”

It takes all Hanzo’s got not to burst into tears. “We do not have time for this. We have to leave,” he urges Jesse. “Can you walk or not?”

“I think so,” Jesse says. “Is that my bag?”

Hanzo shakes his head. “No. Your bag is still…” He hesitates. “I will fetch it for you when we make our way to the train.”

For a moment, Jesse looks incredibly sad. “I just wanted to see the view with you,” he says. “Wanted to kiss you under the cherry trees.” He closes his eyes again and his head lolls to the side, bumping into Hanzo’s shoulder. “The beginning of the rest of our lives.”

“We will have it,” Hanzo says. “But not here. Not now, Jesse, please.”

They make their way through the gardens. Each step a struggle for Jesse, that leans heavily on Hanzo’s shoulder. Hanzo watches over Jesse, and their surroundings as they head for the northwest gate. 

“_Did you think you would be able to leave so easily? _”

Hanzo tenses up. Takeda stands before the gate. He is alone, but that does not make his less dangerous. “_Get out of my way,_” Hanzo growls. “_Take the castle. Do what you wish with it, but leave me out of this. I don’t want anything to do with it._”

Takeda laughs. “_You think it’s that easy to walk away? You are the last Shimada alive, and you run with your tail tucked between your fake legs and your invalid lover on your shoulder? _ ” He grins at Hanzo. “_He may not be dead now, but he will be soon._”

“_You will die long before that,_” Hanzo hisses, he reaches for the sheath on his hip and draws his blade. “_If you will not let me leave, then I will simply have to go through you._”

“_Through me? _ ” Takeda asks. “_You couldn’t kill your father. What makes you think you can kill me? _”

Hanzo glances at Jesse. “He will not let us pass,” he says. “I have to fight him.”

“And fight we will,” Takeda says. “I will not rest easy until the Shimada’s are dead and forgotten.” He lowers himself into a threatening stance, drawing a long sword from a sheath on his back. “_I will paint the ground with your blood._”

Hanzo releases Jesse, that stumbles back slightly, barely staying upright.

“_You can try, _” Hanzo hisses.

They clash together in a flurry of blades. Despite his preference of bows, Hanzo wields the blade like an extension of his arm. _ Guide me, brother,_ he prays when he shoves Takeda back.

Takeda is relentless with his attacks. He is strong and knows his way around a sword far better than Hanzo does. He laughs when Hanzo stumbles, mocking and taunting him with cruel words. 

“_You are a joke,_” he says. “_A disgrace. Your father was a fool not to cast you out along with the remains of your whore mother and your bastard of a brother._” He stabs his blade towards Hanzo, that barely manages to block the blow. “_He would make a weakling the next head of the Shimada clan? Pathetic._”

Hanzo’s breaths are heavy, and he’s dripping with sweat. Each stroke of his blade is a struggle.

“_You were a weakling back then, and you are a weakling now, Hanzo Shimada._” 

Takeda rushes forward and Hanzo cannot keep up. Takeda disarms him with a flick of his blade, and Hanzo finds himself unarmed and defenseless. 

Laughter erupts from Takeda’s throat. He looks down at Hanzo with a wild look on his face, his eyes those of a madman. His patience and calm replaced entirely by bloodlust. “_I will be known, henceforth, as the man that killed the entire Shimada family._”

Hanzo falls to his knees before Takeda. Exhausted and at his limit. But he does not avert his gaze. He will be brave.

_ You were always brave, brother. _

An ear-piercing sound booms throughout the garden. Gunfire but louder than Hanzo has ever heard. He can practically feel the bullet fly past his head and before he has time to react, or even flinch Takeda’s chest bursts open in a firework of gore. Crimson blood sprouting into the air and onto the stone path below him. He falls unceremoniously to the ground, his sword falling and landing with a metallic rattle and his body shuddering before going still. Hanzo turns his head and looks at the young man behind him.

“Bastard,” Jesse grunts, dropping the gun he holds down into his lap. He flashes Hanzo a tired smile. He sits on the ground with his legs splayed out before him, leaned against one of the ornamental stones along the pathway. “Still got it,” Jesse says with a weak smirk. He leans his head back, exhausted but seemingly alright.

Hanzo twists his body, crawling on all fours towards Jesse to wrap him up in a tight hug. 

Jesse groans softly, but Hanzo does not let him go nor ease the force he’s using. “Easy now,” Jesse says. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” He runs his hand up and down Hanzo’s back, rubbing soothing circles, and whispering soft and comforting words into his ear.

The sit, or rather lie, there for several minutes, listening to the sounds of the night and the gunfire in the distance. Hanzo knows that they should already be going, but Jesse remains seated.

When the gunfire begins to die down, Hanzo reluctantly parts from the young cowboy. “We cannot stay here,” he says. 

Jesse gives him an odd look. For a moment Hanzo wonders if Jesse heard what he said, or if he simply didn’t understand. 

“Jesse,” Hanzo urges. “We need to go.”

“Yeah,” Jesse murmurs, still with that odd look on his face. “Yeah, you’re right. Help me up,” he holds out a hand and Hanzo helps him stand. “I’ve got it,” Jesse says. “Get the gate.”

Hanzo hurries to unlock the gate, while Jesse keeps watch. They both stop for another moment to look at Takeda’s body. Hanzo glares at it and mutters the worst curses he knows under his breath.

“Easy,” Jesse says, giving him a comforting smile. “He got what he deserved.”

While Hanzo agrees, he also wishes Takeda an eternity of pain. It feels good to rid the world of such a vile person, but it makes nothing undone. Hanzo sighs and offers a hand to Jesse. “Let’s go.”

-

“Just a little further,” Hanzo murmurs.

Jesse’s arm is wrapped around Hanzo’s shoulders as they climb the steep hill. Despite Hanzo’s protests and the many good reasons why they should not return to the hill, Jesse eventually convinced Hanzo to take him there.

Once they’re at the top of the hill, Jesse pushes himself away from Hanzo and stumbles over to where his belongings still lie. “There you are,” Jesse says, grabbing the hat from the pile and putting it on. “Couldn’t leave without it.”

“You are ridiculous,” Hanzo mutters, but there’s a fond smile on his lips as he watches Jesse rummage through the bag to make sure his belongings are still there and intact. 

After going through the bag, Jesse gives an approving nod and turns to Hanzo with a sheepish smile. “I can’t leave without my stuff,” he says.

“I left without mine,” Hanzo points out. He thinks briefly of the bag he left behind in his room. Part of him wishes that he had gone back for it, but he knows that it would most likely not have been possible. He wonders if he’d ever be able to go back for any of his belongings, or if he’s now forfeited it all to have it thrown out, sold or given away to others. Hanzo has never cared much for material possessions, but leaving without so much as a change of clothes does make him feel a bit exposed.

Then he looks at Jesse, that has that strange expression again, and Hanzo thinks to himself that it doesn’t matter. That what Jesse once said about living in boxes didn’t sound so bad as long as they had each other.

“If you’re worried about freezing I’ll warm you right up,” Jesse says. He smiles when Hanzo chuckles and closes his bag back up. Then he picks it up, hangs it over his shoulder and turns to have a look around in the clearing. His gaze falls on the bundle of fabric at its center. The bundle has started to attract flies, despite the chilly night, and he frowns at it, uncertain if he should be sad or disgusted.

Hanzo notices. “I thought you were dead,” he says. “I did not want to believe it when Takeda told me, but… it was hard to hold on to hope.”

“I understand. I… I would probably have thought the same. Hell, for a while I thought I was dead too.” Jesse gulps and keeps staring at the arm. “Funny… seeing it on the ground like that,” he says. “I’ve seen dead things before… just never myself, or at least a part of myself.”

“Jesse, you are not helping.”

“Sorry. Just never saw this coming,” Jesse mumbles. He tears his gaze away from the arm and walks over to Hanzo. “What matters is that we’re here. Alive. Away.”

“Yes,” Hanzo agrees solemnly. “I hope that the others prevail,” he continues. “Your friends…”

“They’re a tough bunch,” Jesse says. “Marco’s gotten them out of worse. Did I ever tell you about Dorado?”

Hanzo shakes his head. “No, but you will have to tell me.”

Jesse nods. "One of these days. We’ve got time," he promises, then he walks over to the nearest tree and sits down under it. "Can we just sit for a while? It feels like I'm about to drop."

"Rest," Hanzo coos, sitting down next to the cowboy. His hand brushes against Jesse's wounded stump of an arm and Jesse flinched back, wincing. Hanzo's face falls into a frown. "Oh, Jesse…" 

"Don't worry about it. I'd rather lose that than you. What good was it anyway?" 

"Losing an arm is not something to make light of," Hanzo says. "May I have a look?" 

Jesse says nothing and hesitantly raises the stump if his arm enough to give Hanzo access. Hanzo examines it as gently as he can, making sure the binding is sturdy and the bleeding has stopped. 

“I believe it will do for now, but we should get you to a doctor soon.”

“Can’t,” Jesse says. “At least not around here. If they’re looking for us, the first place they’ll start is the hospitals with my arm being like it is.” He nods down the hill towards the castle. “You hear that?”

“No?” Hanzo mumbles.

“Exactly,” Jesse says. “Means Marco and the others are out. So either the place is a dead zone-”

“Or the search for us has begun,” Hanzo says.

Jesse nods solemnly. 

They sit there for a while. If any of them asked the other, they would have said that they were just enjoying the view, but they were both just keeping watch for anyone approaching. 

Hanzo sits vigilant with one hand on his bow and the other one gripping Jesse’s. The castle looks tranquil enough, but he knows that it is most likely swarming with activity. His father’s death will cause a big stir, and he is no doubt a wanted man. Hanzo never imagined himself ending up like this.

But despite all the commotion, the close call and the heartache of thinking he lost his lover, the view of his home town at night soothes Hanzo and his worried soul. The thousands of light look like an extension of the already starry night sky, making it appear as if they sit on a hill staring out at the infinity.

He turns and looks at Jesse, that sit and look down towards the city. He also appears to have relaxed, having deemed their position advantageous enough for a few moments of respite. “Hanamura sure is beautiful,” Jesse murmurs.

Hanzo continues to look at Jesse and nods. Wanting to savor the moment. A spring night with Jesse, under the cherry trees of Hanamura. “Yes,” he says. “Like a dream.”

Jesse turns to him and smiles softly. “Just like a dream,” he agrees, squeezing Hanzo’s hand. 

They look at one another for some time, appreciating that they’re there, together and alive. But Hanzo notices how Jesse’s gaze wanders. How the young American’s eyes widen with surprise and wonder, and mouth slowly falls open.

“What?” Hanzo can’t help but ask. “What are you doing?”

Jesse stares at Hanzo so intently it's almost frightening. He sits there, eyes filled with stars and cheeks tinted red and Hanzo has a feeling that Jesse is slightly out of it. "You are full of surprises," Jesse says softly. He tangles his fingers in Hanzo's hair, pulling it free from the ponytail Hanzo kept it in. "When were you gonna tell me?" He asks as he puts the ribbon aside.

Hanzo looks at him. He furrows his brows tilts his head to the side. "Tell you what?" he asks. 

Jesse chuckles softly. "That you've got dragons on your shoulders," he says. "Maybe Marco was right… Maybe I really did sign on for more than I asked for? But boy if I don't love you." 

"What are you talking about? Are you alright?" Hanzo puts a hand on Jesse's forehead, it is slightly warmer than usual but not enough to be alarmed. "I do not have anything on my shoulders."

"Yeah, you do," Jesse insists. "Two dragons, or maybe more? I am a bit dizzy."

Hanzo blinks, and Jesse keeps his fascinated stare on Hanzo’s left shoulder. “You... see the dragons?” he asks. 

“It’s kind of difficult not to when the glow like that,” Jesse chuckles. “What? You’ve been trying to hide them?” He smiles at Hanzo, an almost childish smile that completely disarms Hanzo of any words of thoughts he has.

Hanzo smiles back. “They are new,” he says. 

“I like ‘em. Slithering around your head like a halo.” Jesse cups a hand over Hanzo’s cheek. “My angel,” he murmurs before he kisses him.

"You are ridiculous," Hanzo sighs, giving his lover a fond smile as he grabs and kisses Jesse’s hand. "Rest, we have a long way to go."

Jesse nods. "Oh, I'll rest," he says. He lies down, and Hanzo lies down with him, leaning his head on Jesse’s healthy arm. "Never felt this safe in my entire life,” Jesse murmurs. “Shame about that lil’ garden house though. I’m going to miss that.”

“So am I,” Hanzo murmurs. 

-

“Fuss over me one more time, and I will turn this car around.”

Hanzo frowns. “Jesse, you have had that thing for less than a month and you should not be driving,” he says. “You should be resting, and not driving us through a mountain pass.”

“We’re soon there,” Jesse insists. “You’ll love the place. I know you will. So just… kick back for a while. I’ve got this.”

With a heavy sigh, Hanzo leans back in the car seat and crosses his arms over his chest. “You tell me if you need to switch, okay?”

Jesse laughs softly, his laughter like music clashing like the foreign tunes that are playing on the radio. “You couldn’t drive ten feet if the car was on rails, darlin’,” he says. He reaches out and turns the radio up a little bit, singing along in a language Hanzo doesn’t understand.

Instead, Hanzo turns his attention towards the window. Jesse had not told him where they were going, other than that it was important that they get there before the end of the month. Hanzo figured that there was some kind of event that Jesse did not want to miss, but what it was he had yet to figure out.

He knew that they were somewhere in Spain, and Jesse seemed more than fluent in the language. A surprise that had left Hanzo stunned the first time he heard Jesse speak with the locals.

The sun shines and the old truck they travel in cast its shadow against the mountain wall. It’s all Hanzo has been able to look at for some time now, and the dull and repetitive scene has since long become boring. 

“Are we there yet?” Hanzo asks, something he knows will make Jesse laugh, and it does this time too.

Jesse puts his hand over Hanzo’s, warm and soft, unlike his new prosthetic left arm. “Just… give it a minute, and keep your eyes peeled. I really want you to see this,” he says. “Trust me.”

Hanzo does trust Jesse. He has for almost an entire year now and he hasn’t regretted it once. They’ve traveled across several continents together, and not one night has been spent in any kind of box. 

“Do you mean a real minute? Or one of your made-up ones?” Hanzo asks.

Jesse laughs again. “Just… look out the window while we round this corner,” he says. 

Sighing, Hanzo turns and looks out the window again. He leans his chin in his hand, pouting as he stares, uninterested, at the cliffs beside the car. But as the truck rolls further along the road, and the mountain wall curves away, the landscape in the valley below becomes visible. 

The valley below them is covered with hundreds, maybe thousands, of trees in bloom. Their pristine white petals make it look as if they’re covered with a layer of fine snow or ice. Hanzo stares, and realizes, “Cherry trees.”

“Exactly,” Jesse says. “They’re a bit different from the ones you’re used to, but I thought you’d like it.”

Hanzo turns to him, mouth agape and eyes glossy. “Jesse, you have no idea how much…” he stops himself and shakes his head. “I did not think- I thought I would never-...” Words escape him over and over and he turns his gaze back down towards the valley.

Jesse pulls over and stops on a small ledge under an old tree that leans over the edge of the cliff. He puts the car in park and opens the door. “You coming?” he asks.

Without hesitating, Hanzo exits the car and walks over to stand in the shade of the cherry tree, he puts his hand against its cool trunk and smiles. “It is beautiful,” he says. “Amazing.”

“Thought you’d like it,” Jesse says, walking up to stand beside him. “It ain’t Hanamura, but… maybe it’s familiar enough.”

Hanzo turns and grabs Jesse by the hand. “It means the world to me,” he says. “Thank you for taking me here.”

Blushing, Jesse uses his new hand to scratch the back of his head. A few strands of hair get stuck in one of the joints and he has to pull them free. “Well… no big deal, yeah? We can go wherever we want. Well… almost everywhere.”

They have not yet dared themselves back to Japan, and the approach of spring has put a considerable dent in Hanzo’s mood. They both know why but has spoken very few words about it. Jesse has tried to remain positive and cheerful but has trouble not feeling a bit disrespectful about trying to interfere with his partner’s grieving. 

For a while, they stand in silence and watch the valley. They stand hand in hand and enjoy the moment. “It is beautiful,” Hanzo says. “And like this,” he squeezes Jesse’s hand. “it is better than any dream or painting I have ever dreamt or seen.”

“Really?” Jesse asks.

Hanzo nods. “Yes. Being with you is all I could ever ask for.”

“Aw, Han,” Jesse mutters, averting his eyes to try and conceal his blush. “You and your smooth words.”

Hanzo can’t help but let out a chuckle. He loves to see the cowboy blush, and his embarrassment is so endearing that Hanzo can’t help but ‘pull Jesse’s leg’ every now and again to see it. He settles down and looks down at the cherry trees.

Hanamura was beautiful during spring.

“I would like to go back one day,” Hanzo says, catching Jesse off-guard. “To see their resting places. Genji, mother, and father.”

_We will be waiting._

“We’ll go once things have settled down,” Jesse vows. 

“Yes,” Hanzo agrees. “It is… a wish of mine, but I am in no hurry. Spring is…” he thinks for a moment and then turns to Jesse. He’s not smiling, and he looks strangely serious, even for a Shimada. “Spring is beautiful,” he says, and slowly his expression softens. “Because it brought you.” 

Jesse’s face grows redder by the second until he looks as if he’s about to faint or burst into tears, but he does neither of those things. Instead, he takes a deep breath, flashes Hanzo his goofy and so very lovable smile. “I love you so much, Han,” he says. 

“And I love you,” Hanzo replies without missing a beat.

And while holding each other’s hands, looking each other deep in the eyes, despite the view of the cherry tree valley; they know that wherever they are, as long as they are together, spring will always be beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a sappy journey that I am glad to have gone on tbh. Thank you for reading! Have a wonderful day/night <3


End file.
